In the line of Duty - An Adeptus Arbites story
by Librarian Astelan
Summary: In this story, Lars Akira becomes a member of the Adeptus Arbites, in service to his Judge, Arthur Belloran. His missions bring him all over the Imperium of Man, facing heresy, betrayal and corruption.
1. Chapter 1: Sabotage

**Part one - Born out of treason**

 _+++5.455.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Rexon, Subsector Drake, Sector Yamata, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Harland II - Naval docks - Heavy cruiser Emperor's Fury+++_

*Krsshhhh... Krshhshhhh... Clang... Krsshhshhh*

The silence aboard the unfinished _Emperor's Fury_ was breached by a sissling sound, interrupted every now and then by a loud bang. The hallways of the ship were dark and abandoned, the floors filled with powercables. A few polishing servitors stood aside the walkway, powered down, moisture forming on their, slightly corroded, metal parts. It was cold aboard the hulk of the battleship as life support systems were kept running at minimum capacity. Still, in the middle of the hallway, near a heavy safety hatch, two persons huddled down, heavy blastmasks on their heads, operating an industrial sized welder. A soft humming came from the machine which slowly died as the two men lifted their masks.

"Right, that's done." said a heavy, hoarse voice. "Indeed, they'll need to bring in some heavy ordnance to force this thing." replied a deeper, but younger voice. "And it'll stand up to whatever pressure is put against it if the enemy would ever breach the hull of our lady." "Hah! Like that would ever happen." came the reply of the second man, a trace of humour sounding through. "Don't laugh Akira. You haven't been assigned to one of the ships returning from battle. The wounds the enemy inflict are not to be trifled with." "Ah Svensson, a good thing that you welded this thing solid fixed then." Svensson grumbled and stowed his blastmask in a pouch hanging from the welder. Picking up a lumen globe, he flicked it on to inspect their work. "Come on Lars. Enough with the jokes. I'm tired as it is and we still need to take the long walk to the station." The other man got up and instead of carefully putting his mask in the second pouch, he threw it on the machine with a smile. "Alright then old man. Let's get moving!"

Lars broke into a jog and started running down the corridor, provoking an annoyed sigh from Svensson. "Oh come on, man. You know what I mean. It's bad enough that technographer M5 had us do overtime. Don't go straining my old bones with that nonsense. For Throne's sake, calm down a bit. I'll buy you a beer when we get there." "You know you shouldn't. Ellen will tear your head off if you come in any later than necessary." Even in the half light, Svensson's deep frown was clearly visible. "If you keep your mouth shut, she'll never know. Besides, a beer after this shift _is_ necessary." And with that conclusion the two men start their way back to the station.

The two men were nearly at the exit to the docks, near the Enginarium of the ship when Svenson suddenly stopped. With the meagre light of the lumen globe, he peered into the shadowry space of one of the hundreds service tunnels, putting his hand on Lars' shoulder. "You see that?" Svenson grumbled. Lars crouched down to take a look at the small hallway. Everything appeared to be normal. The metal grated plates that made up the floor were placed neatly next to one another. The emergency lighting inside the tunnel wasn't lit, but the two red, sturdy glass lumen globes were undamaged and no tools were lingering around. "What Svenson? Did you take a drink alre..." Svensson interrupted his younger colleague abruptly. "Look here, you insolent young dog."

Svenson moved a bit closer to the opening and held the industrial light source closer to the ground. There, right under their noses, and stretched out along the entire length of the service tunnel, a thick groove was grinded in the metal plates. "That can't be right." whispered Svenson as he felt the groove with his thumb. "Come on old man. This is probably someone from R-gang that was sloppy when they put these in." Lars said as he got back up and straightened his aching back. "No my friend. The service tunnels in section G where the responsability of B-gang and technographer RH7, aka technographer Nitpicker." "Oh, that _tjätman_." replied Lars and with a servitor-like voice he imitated the techpriest, " _This operation is performed with suboptimal quality. Restart and repeat procedure_. That is the _güvernor_ of anal. You must be right. It weren't the guys from R-gang. But so what? Let's move on. There is nothing for us to do here." The old man sighed once more. "You think the navy would win it's battles with that attitude Akira? If we want to give our boys a fair chance out there, they need to be equipped with the best of the best. And I'll make sure that Harland will _always_ provide the best of the best. I'll go take a look. Just to assess the damage. I'll report it to M5 tomorrow. Perhaps he might even reward us with an easy shift for our vigilance." "Right, like _that_ would happen... Knock yourself out. I'm staying here." a sulking Lars replied, "Just don't take all day. I'm freezing my _bollar_ off here. And don't even think you can get forget buying me that drink." Lars smiled, "And don't get lost like last time!" Svenson ignored the mockery from his younger colleague and on a more serious tone he said: "One of these days, you'll need to grow up Lars. The Emperor is counting on each and every one of us. We need to prove ourselves worthy of his protection. It's our _duty_." And with those words, Svenson dissappeared inside the service tunnel.

Lars waited a couple of minutes at the exit of the service tunnel. Each time he breathed out, a white vapor formed before him in the air. He rubbed his hands to keep warm, but it was a futile effort. After five minutes, he had had it. Just when he wanted to leave, he heard a loud bang, as from metal on metal, ringing throughout the ship's empty hallways. *AAAARGH* The scream reached Lars' ears only moments later.

 _'The old fool got himself in trouble, Akira. Blast!'_

Without wasting any time, Lars crouched down and headed into the service tunnel. Without a lumen globe he couldn't sprint through it and even if there would have been sufficient lighting, running down the cramped space, would only have enlarged the chance of banging his head against one of the many pipes or heavy metal taps that were spread out along the tunnel. It wasn't before long though when he banged his head anyway. He felt how a thin stream of blood trickled down his left temple, but Lars swept it away and due to the cold, the blood coagulated soon after. With a sore head, he drudged on, until suddenly he heard voices coming from further ahead. A dozen paces more led him around a corner and a weak light shone at the far end of the tunnel. Voices were raised and he could overhear a heated discussion. However, Svenson's voice seemed to be missing.

"He'll jusst have to go. He'sssseen too much." the lisping voice of a woman was clearly infused with anger. "Think woman. Svenson is well known. His disappearance would only invite more prying eyes." a low but rasping voice replied. "I'm not ssaying that he hasss to disssappear, but he musssn't talk. We could make it look like an acssident."  
"Yes, we could have done that... Until you stabbed him in the chest you crazy bitch." As the conversation went on, Lars frantically thought what to do. It was clear that his friend's life was in danger. Lars checked the pockets of his cargopants and the pouches of his toolbelt. The best he could find, was a sturdy, but discouragingly small hammer.

 _'Oh well. It's only two of them. If I can surprise them, I should be able to take them both on. First I'll hit the man on...'_

*Shlick-Shlick... BANG* "That's settled." a third booming voice cuts in. *Shlick-Shlick... BANG* "And decided." the voice continued. "Zephr, you moron. What are you..." the first man started to protest. *Shlick-Shlick...* "You had anything to add, fraghead?" the booming voice said. "I thought so." he continued when no one spoke up. "Now... Luckas, strip him of his gear. Aninka, you're coming with me. We'll shove the body in an airlock and dump it in the void. He was with D-gang, wasn't he? They have been working on airlocks all week. It'll look like he had some work to finish and accidentily cut the wrong cables... If they'll come looking for him anyway. Now, what are you waiting for Luckas?"

Lars sat still in the tunnel, not daring to move. It would have been folly to go up against the two bastards alone, but going up against three, with at least one of them armed with a gun... That would have been madness. From the end of the tunnel came the voice of Luckas. "There. All done. But I'm telling you that this will only cause more problems. What about his overseer?" "We'll let Engineseer RA5544 sort that out." Zephyr shouted back. "We're not paying that cogboy for nothing. It's time he starts earning that money. Grab his ankles Aninka." "Sssure, sssure, make the gal do all the hard work." the woman hissed.

A few moments later, Lars found himself alone in the tunnel, the usual silence aboard the ship returning. Not knowing what to do, Lars stayed in his hiding place. After a few minutes, he swallowed and started crawling towards the exit of the tunnel. When he reached the open hatch, he saw that the standard lighting had been lit. He also noticed that his right hand felt warm. Looking down, he saw that it was coloured a deep red. The metallic tang of blood reached his nostrils. Lars had to swallow again to keep the bile at bay. Without thinking he swiped the blood of on the wall. When his hand was more or less clean, he looked up to see what Svenson had seen.

It appeared as if the service tunnel had led him straight to the exhaust vents of the _Emperor's Fury_. At first it seemed like nothing was out of the orderly, but then Lars remembered the thick groove, etched in the floorplates of the tunnel. The groove was still there and led to one of the 3-by-3 metre wide emergency valves of the battleship. Carefully, Lars left the cover of the tunnel and followed the trail. With a small effort, he managed to climb the valve. On top of the construction, Lars stumbled over a heavy pneumatic drill. Dozens of coinsized holes littered the giant tube of the vent, just in front of the emergency valve. Lars was no techpriest however, so although he realized that Svenson was right about the fact that something didn't add up, he had no clue to what had been done here. Indecisive, he stood on top of the giant tube, trying to figure out what to do. However, a decision was forced on him when he heard the footsteps of a couple of people coming closer from one of the hallways that led to the chamber. Reflexes took over and Lars sprinted for the service tunnel, fleeing the scene.


	2. Chapter 2: Meeting Mahara

_+++5.456.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Rexon, Subsector Drake, Sector Yamata, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Harland II - naval docks - Crewquarter Yellow-754+++_

The last thing he had heard were the footsteps coming closer. Since then, everything had turned into a blurry haze. Lars recalled vaguely that he had waited at the other end of the service tunnel, his puny hammer drawn, franticly trying to keep his ragged breathing in check to avoid the gangers noticing him before he would smash in their skulls. How long he had been standing there, wasn't clear anymore. After an indefinite time he had withdrawn to the station, avoiding all contact with other workers or techpriests. Somehow he had made it back, without having to face other members of his crew. He remembered thirsting for a shot of amasec, but visiting _The Limp Mechadendrite_ had seemed like the worst plan.

So now Lars was sitting in his quarters. It were only the most basic of accomodations: a livingroom with a built in kitchen, that could double as a bathroom, and a second chamber that contained the steel, prefab bed that was just a bit too small and only gave him about 30 centimeters to walk next to. He had barricaded the door of his quarters. One of his two chairs was pushed under the doorhandle and of course the bolt and chain were on. The room was a mess. Lars wasn't the most tidiest of people at the best of times, but he seemed to remember that he had begun packing his stuff to get the warp out of there, only to realise halfway that he had nowhere to go. So he had stopped packing. Fortunately, with the packing he had also found an old bottle of sherrin, which wasn't as good as cheap amasec, but would do the trick. Getting drunk had seemed like a good idea at that point. Now it seemed that the wisdom of his plan had been flawed.

*Clank, clank* The knock on the door agravated his headache, but still it seemed like the least of his problems. Lars stiffened. "Lars? Are you in there? Freddy told me that you didn't show up for your shift. Are you in there! Lars!"

 _'Frak. That was Ellen. Of course, Akira. Perhaps M5 wouldn't come asking after Svenson. His wife sure would.'_

"Yeah, I'm in he..." he started, but he had to scrape his throat before he could actually make himself heard. "Yeah, I'm in here, Ellen!" The headache made his reappearance on Lars' priorty list. Shouting through the door wasn't helping. Lars stumbled to the sink, putting his head under a thin stream of tepid water. "I'll be... I'll be right out Ellen!" he yelled, spitting out the water he got in his mouth. Lars picked up a dirty tanktop from under the table and tried to dry his hair. Next he shoved the chair from under the doorhandle and opened the door, just wide enough that he could look outside. There he saw Ellen, silverhaired, wrinkled, blue-eyed Ellen. As their eyes met, he saw a million questions in hers and a warm feeling of compassion and care. The guilt hit him harder than his hangover. Here she was, the new widow. She wouldn't even know Svenson had been killed.

"My boy. Are you alright?" the woman began, but Lars shook his head ever so slightly. If anyone didn't deserve compassion, it would be him. "Have you seen Gerrit? I heard you were working together yesterday. He hasn't... He hasn't come home this night." The despair on her face briefly made place for a brave smile, "I went to the _Mech_ , but Gregor told me Gerrit hadn't been there. So I also went to _Huren's Bar_. You know how Gerrit sometimes goes down there to avoid me, but..." her face turned back to despair, "They told me he hadn't been there either. So..." Lars shook his head, avoiding looking in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Ellen. I was with him last night, but he wanted to finish something. He said something about duty. Haven't seen him ever since." Before Ellen could ask more questions, Lars pushed the door shut. He couldn't take any more.

 _'Duty. Akira. How dare you take that word in your mouth.'_

* * *

 _+++5.457.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Rexon, Subsector Drake, Sector Yamata, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Harland II - naval docks - Enforcer station Zulu Foxtrot+++_

"So tell me again son. You were working late on the Emperor's Fury, when your buddy, erhm," Lars filled in the gap rather angrily. "Svenson!" The enforcer at the other side of the table raised his hands in a calming motion. "Right, right, your buddy Svenson, saw a groove in the plating and went investigating. You didn't accompany him, but after a few minutes, you did hear a scream." Lars shook his head violently. "No, no, not a scream, I heard a loud _bäng_." The enforcer nodded annoyed. "Yeah, yeah, but then you heard the scream, didn't you say?... So you went to look for Svanson and," "Svenson, sir, Svenson." Lars corrected. "Svanson, Svenson. Your coworker, right? So, you found him knocked dead." Lars wanted to scream, but managed to restrain himself. "He was still alive then sir."

This had been going on for a few hours. After the visit of Ellen, Lars had decided that the best remedy for the gutwrenching feeling of guilt and the headache from the hangover would have been to finish the bottle of sherrin. When he woke up, several hours later, he came to the realisation that the medicine had cured neither of his conditions. When he took a hot shower in his shabby bathroom/kitchen, the last words of Svenson kept ringing through his head, mixed with the expecting look in Ellen's blue eyes. Was it the shower or was it the fact that for the first time in nearly a day he wasn't under the influence, neither from adrenaline nor from alcohol, but when he dried himself with his last clean towel, Lars felt a new kind of resolve. He would bring the men and woman who did this to justice.

That plan wasn't working out though. He had walked to the nearest enforcer station and had asked to talk to a senior officer. Instead, they had put him in a small, 2-by-3 room with beige flakboard walls and a fat bloke whose uniform had been stained with crumbs and grease stains. The man had told him to spill his story, but even before he had come to the shooting, he had been interrupted numerous times. The man asked him to go over the story again and again and appeared completely unable to retain the slightest order in his story. Lars started thinking that the man was doing it on purpose to detect lies in his story.

 _'Perhaps this lump of fat is thinking that you killed Svenson, Akira. Perhaps they have found his body, floating in the void and they suspect you threw him out of an airlock.'_

Desperately Lars slammed his fists on the small, plasteel table in front of him. "Look mister, the proof of the sabotage is to be found aboard the _Emperor's Fury_. If you would look for Svenson's body..." Lars swallowed, "You'll see that he's been shot twice! So how about you and I go looking there, so you can stop this incessive questioning and start believing me." The enforcer at the other side of the table - Lars could read his nametag: sergeant Quinlan - wasn't impressed with Lars' outburst. "Sit down, son! You'll answer questions just as long as I want to hear your answers! We found your buddy Svenson alright, but the gunshot wounds you're telling me about... Well, suffice to say that we have strong reasons not to believe you."Lars was baffled. He slumped down in his chair and it felt like the ground had fallen away from under his feet.

"That will do sergeant!" A voice cut through the room, sharp and menacing. Lars looked up only to see Quinlan's spotty face pale. "Yes ma'am. Of course ma'am. Do you believe this fra... You believe young Ekika here?" This time it didn't fell to Lars to correct the inept sergeant. "Akira, Quinlan, Akira. At what point will you get a dataslate to note things down? Your beerflooded brain can't seem to hold on to any information..." The woman laughed mockingly, "Right, I forgot Quinlan, you're too far gone to be able to write, isn't it? Now, get out of here, so that I can have a word with Akira here."

The fat enforcer scrambled up from his chair and stumbled towards the door, pressing himself against the doorframe to avoid touching the petite woman standing there with her hands on her hips, eyeing him with a look that would set his fat, square shaped head on fire. Quinlan failed miserably and a look of disgust flashed over the woman's face. The woman then inspected Quinlan's chair and decided to ignore it, leaning against the table instead. "And now you, my good boy. We will have a little talk. Arbitrator Mahara, at your service." she says with a mean grin on her face. When the woman presented herself, Lars followed Quinlan's example. His face lost all colour and the brief moment where he had thought things might be looking up when someone stood up to the fat man's pestering, ended rather abruptly.

The woman standing before him, casually leaning against the plasteel table was about 1.55m tall, well trained and quite beautiful. Her auburncoloured hair was tied in a tight bun and a couple of almondshaped brown eyes were boring themselves into his. She wore a battledress with a little, black stitched insignia of the Adeptus Arbites on her collar. Although Lars wouldn't think twice about asking any other woman looking like her for a night out, this one radiated menace. Although her posture seemed relaxed, Lars got the feeling that she could reach over the table in an instant and knock him out clean. Not to mention the robust and deadly boltpistol hanging at her left side.

"I couldn't help but overhear your story, Akira. Is it true?" Mahara asked. "O-O-Off course, i-i-it's true." he said and hastily added, "Ma'am." She gave him a little smile. Lars couldn't be certain if it was because she wanted to put him at ease or whether she was grinning like a shark ready for the kill. "But the fact that we found the body of Svenson - he still had his ID tag on, so we presume it was him," she said, with a dismissive hand gesture, "without the wounds you described, would mean what exactly?" Lars paled a little more, especially when he wondered what impression his whitened face might give the arbitrator. "I don't know... Ma'am... I only heard 'kashlick-kashlick, boom'. And when I went l-l-looking, I found a-a-a lot of blood. I assumed..." Lars' voice trailed off. "You assumed correctly Akira. Someone did his best to cover that up and with the effect of the void and the extra bruising, they nearly pulled it off." Lars remained silent.

 _'Can this be true, Akira? Does she actually believe you?'_

"I believe you Akira." Mahara confirmed his hope, "I didn't have Zephr in my sight, but it wouldn't be beyond him. Threatening his gangmembers wouldn't be either. It's that piece of information that made it plausible, my young friend. It seems like you're off the hook." She gave him another smile, but again Lars wasn't sure if it was a genuine smile or more of a smile that said 'That's right. Go on. Think you're off the hook. It'll just make the surprise a bit bigger later on.'

He decided to give the woman a cautious smile himself. Mahara bursted out laughing. "Not too dumb, are you, Akira?... That's right. You might be off the hook for murder, but it seems like you're in deep shit. You see. If what you tell is true, and those thugs have had a go at that valve, that means they are sabotaging the ship. A good friend of mine, Mech-deacon Hellion, has said that if they could pull off the same stunt on the other valves, the ship would explode before it sailed out of the dock. Which would cause the entire dock to go down... Sooo, I need you to do something for me Akira. To serve your Emperor. I need you to get in the good graces of Zephr."

Lars looked at her incredulously, but he soon realized that unlike the fact that Mahara smiled a lot, she didn't joke around.


	3. Chapter 3: Undercover

_+++5.509.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Rexon, Subsector Drake, Sector Yamata, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Harland II - naval docks - cargo hold IMA487+++_

"Why should we trust this nobody Zephr? He's been with us for what... three weeks and you're already..." the rasping voice of Luckas sounded a bit shrill. Lars suppressed the urge to smile. The more the man protested, the more he saw his status with Zephr confirmed. "Why wouldn't we trust him, Luckas?" Zephr replied, his voice dangerously soft. "Did you forget it was Lars that tipped us about the enforcer's raid? Didn't you escape with the rest of us, after he had warned us about their approach? Do you believe he isn't convinced of the cause? Or are you just jealous of a man's ability, a man better than you?!" By now the gang leader was shouting. "Shut up Luckas. We don't have any time to spare for your nonsense."

Zephr looked over at Lars after having scolded his subordinate. The man gave him a little smile, as if they shared a little secret. However, although Zephr had claimed in public he had nothing but respect for and confidence in their latest asset, Lars knew that he kept his mouth shut about the more crucial parts of the plan. Apparently, his confidence in Lars was limited. The problem was that the day for the gang's raid was coming closer... Fast. Lars needed to get more intel on the operation, urgently. He had hoped that the progress he had made at the beginning, would have been an indication for the future, but he had become sidetracked, acting as one of Zephr's grunts.

Thanks to Mahara, Lars had found an easy way in. She had pointed him in the direction of some disgruntled dockworkers and said to him that he only needed to voice concerns about the working regime that the 'cogboys' were imposing. At the time, he had even looked shocked at the disrespectful nickname the arbitrator used for the techpriests. But he had done as she had said and before long he had been approached by a redhead woman who presented herself as Aninka.

The second thing that Mahara had done to help him, was forging his ID and his employment history at the Harland II docks. She had given him a new background where he had been working as a welder, but not on the shipwright, but on the docks themselves, more specifically, the part of the docks where central control of the enforcers was located. This would make sure that Lars would be a useful asset to the gang. This strategy of Mahara had worked as planned too and Lars had been initiated quickly enough in the gang. Luckily there had been no strange rituals or oaths to swear. In the beginning it was just a gathering of unhappy workers that chatted about their hardship and the meagre compensation for their sweat and blood. The leader of the gang, Zephr, hadn't shown himself till after three sessions of this gathering.

After the first week undercover, Lars had reported in with Mahara. They had met in the wastetunnels below the precinct. They had created a simple code with small crayon signs on garbagecontainers to communicate to make this kind of meetings possible. As he had told the arbitrator of his progress, she had shaken her head and said:

"This is not going fast enough Akira. You need to be more agressive." Her tone had indicated that she wouldn't accept no for an answer. Still, Lars had felt like she was asking too much. "I'm well aware of that ma'am, but..." "Failure is not an option Akira. You want that ship to explode?" Mahara had reminded him of the stakes. "O... Of course not, ma'am, on the contra..." "Then what do you need man? Another casualty like Svensson? Or perhaps..." Lars had almost growled after the stingy remark. "If there is anything I need, it isn't to be reminded of my cowardice. If you think you can help, give me something that I can use to earn their trust." Mahara had set her hands on her hips and looked defiantly. "And what could that be, Akira?" Lars had started fulminating. "I don't know. You're the professional! It could be anything. Providing them with weapons, explosives, anything that could aid their cause!" "Right again Akira." the arbitrator had softened her tone. "But it has to been something only you can provide. And not something that could blow this thing out of proportions." "So?" Lars had asked. "You'll give them some information. I'll inform you of a standard raid that the enforcers will perform on the warehouse where the gatherings take place. You'll have to warn Zephr in time so that he won't be caught. I'll hand over the details tomorrow. Stay sharp, Akira. You're doing a good job."

It had worked like a charm. Lars had burst in the meeting, running over to Zephr and whispering in his ear that the enforcers were coming. His statement had been underlined only moments later when some flashbangs were seen in the halls leading to the gathering. Lars had ran with Zephr and Luckas to avoid being caught by the enforcers. The next day Zephr had included him in his inner circle with Luckas, Aninka and a young boy named Hondo. Most of the time, the meetings were about how to entertain the gatherings and one time, they had moved again on the _Emperor's Fury_ , disconnecting some massive tubes, leading into the enginarium. Lars hadn't had the faintest idea what they were doing, but he could only assume that this was one more way to sabotage the ship. Since then, though, nothing more had happened. Mahara was breathing in his neck for more information and the last time they had met, she really had spelled it out for him. If he wouldn't get results soon, he'd be rounded up together with the heretics.

So Lars had decided that he would follow Zephr today, after their meeting.

* * *

 _+++5.509.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Rexon, Subsector Drake, Sector Yamata, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Harland II - naval docks - sewage system under cargo holds IMA+++_

Lars was trying to keep his breathing even and slow, but had a hard time since his heart was racing. His adrenaline level had already been boosted once when Zephr had turned around to look in his direction. Only the fact that he had fallen behind had saved him. Now he was wading through the sludge, trying not to splatter to avoid detection. The air he was breathing was damp and stank of rot. Some fifty meters before him, he saw the little light of Zephr's glowpack. Fortunately the man didn't take a lot of effort to remain quiet. He was even whistling the tune of "When Saint Thor comes marching in". Apparently irony wasn't beyond the heretic.

Suddenly the light ahead stopped its movement. Lars ducked, withstanding the urge to curse as he felt the sewage water soak his crotch. Further ahead he heard a scraping noise and Lars could tell Zephr was moving something, probably some kind of hatch or door. Moments later his intuition proved right when he heard the metallic clang of a hatch slamming against the wall and the feint light of the glowpack disappeared. Cursing, Lars sped towards the opening, still trying to be as quiet as possible, but weighing stealth against speed since he didn't want to lose track of the man in this maze of tunnels. He shouldn't have worried though as he found that Zephr was still going about at a casual speed, picking up another tune to whisle.

After another few twists and turns, Lars thought that Zephr was leading him on a wild goose chase. He hadn't got the slightest clue of where he was, but he doubted they were still under the cargo holds. A few minutes ago, Zephr had stopped whistling though and it appeared like he had reconfigured the glowpack to shed even less light. Lars had been obligated to close the distance to make sure he didn't lost track of the man, even as the risk of getting caught would be higher. Luckily, some kind of deep, thundering roar was blanketing out the few sounds Lars made, although it made him wonder where Zephr had taken him.

Moments later, Lars understood what was causing the noise. Zephr had led him straight to one of the main purification plants of Harland II. Tons of water were flowing each second out of a myriad of pipes into a huge basin a hundred metres below him. Lars came to the end of his tunnel and saw that Zephr was climbing a rusty scaffolding to a platform a few dozen metres higher up. There he saw another figure standing in the light of some floodlights. The light shone from behind the man so Lars was having a hard time distinguishing any peculiarities until the man turned away. In profile Lars saw that the man was wearing a hood, which obscured most of his face but for a distinctive hooked nose. Clearly, this was the person Zephr was going to meet as the robed figure raised his hand when Zephr arrived at the platform.

It would be impossible to follow the same route along the scaffolding to get to the platform without being seen. Staying here, wouldn't get Lars anything. The thundering noise of the hundreds of streams of water made it impossible to listen in from his current position. Lars cursed under his breath. Had he walked this long, only to be stopped now? There had to be something he could do.

 _'Look around Akira. If you can't find a solution, Mahara will have your head and all your work will be for naught.'_

Lars peered into the darkness to find another way up.

 _'There, Akira! That might be your way in... If it'll hold your weight that is.'_

Lars had seen a thick, but corroded metal chain hanging down from the ceiling far above him. If he could reach a pipe a dozen metres to the right of him, he would be able to grab the thing and start climbing. The hardest part would be clambering towards the pipe. Lars reached out to another pipe with his right hand, looking for grip with his left hand.

 _'Don't start thinking this over now, Akira. Just do it.'_

And with that thought, Lars shifted his weight from his legs to his right arm, immediately looking for another piece of support as to get out of his uncomfortable position. Luckily, a minute later, he reached the chain. He had almost suffered another heart attack when a part of a small lead pipe had buckled under his weight and his right hand had slipped from a wet metal grill. He had cut open his left hand, grasping for support, but it was a minor wound. Now he was climbing the large metal chain. It was swinging gently due to his acrobatics, but the links in the chain were that big that he could easily place his feet in them. Coming at about the same level as the two men, Lars spotted a semi-decent hiding spot. It didn't offer much in the likes of cover, but with the floodlights below it, he was pretty sure that no one would see him up here: an iron grill, hanging from the ceiling, probably a leftover from the time the Mechanicus constructed the purification plant. It was derelict now, but he could hear and see Zephr and the other man below him.

"Quit your yammering Zephr. It is decided." a strong but flat voice sounded. Something was wrong with the voice, but Lars couldn't put his finger on it. "But my lord, we are not ready. The ship..." Zephr protested, but the other man interrupted him with a small wave of his arm. "Has been damaged enough." "But if you give me one more week..." Zephr pleaded. "Aye, your sabotage will be even more thorough, but we don't have that week. It'll have to do." Apparently Zephr knew when to let it go. He nodded and stared at the ground. "Yes my lord. I bow for your wisdom. Although, if I might..." "Surely you want to know what has changed the timeline. Well my friend, an opportunity presented itself. I have been able to schedule a first test for the _Emperor's Fury_. This is even more fructuous than we could foresee. The ship will not be leaving the vicinity of the docks. The downside is that it hasn't been completely loaded with it's full complement of ammunition. However, the proximity will make up for that." Lars couldn't hear it, but actually saw Zephr swallow. "Where can we find refuge for this... event, my lord?" "Fool. You do not wish to witness this prime moment with your own eyes?" "Only to be of further service, my lord fabricator." Zephr was positively groveling. "I see. Perhaps I can find room aboard my personal guncutter when the battleship is launched tomorrow. Report at docking bay M44 and present this dataslate to the guards. You will be taken aboard and watch the spectacle from a ... safer, point of view."

The truth hit Lars to the core of his believes. The forge master himself was involved in this sabotage. They would launch the ship and it would be destroyed, close enough to the docks to take them down as well. This would not only destroy the ship they had been working on - a blow to the Imperial navy in need of reinforcements - but moreover, it would severely damage the Harland II docks. Which meant the production of a small dozen of smaller escort ships would be delayed or destroyed as well. Not to mention the consequences of the debris to the population and infrastructure down below on Rexon. Millions would be killed.

The Fabricator moved over to the floodlights and switched them off. Down at this level, most technology had to be commanded by hand. Something not even a Mechanicus magos could change. Zephr had already commenced his way back down along the scaffolding. It was time to find Mahara. With this, surely she would be able to stop this madness.

Suddenly, Lars felt the platform he was lying on, swing. "Greetings Akira. It seems Luckas was right after all."


	4. Chapter 4: A fight, and then some

Even before he could turn around, Lars knew who just stepped on the platform, the voice of the other man betraying his identity.

 _'No sense in denying it now, Akira. You just need to buy some time to get up.'_

"Yes Hondo. He was indeed." Slowly Lars turned on his back and sat up. There the small, scrawny man stood. He had a bit of a yellowish skin and in the darkness his eyes were pitch black. Hondo was wearing the standard outfit of a dockworker, a coverall, but Lars suspected this was only a disguise since anyone working on the docks in such a uniform would be more muscled. The thing was way too large at the shoulders and his sleeves were far too loose. But Lars' thinking quickly focused on the small, but deadly laspistol aimed square at his forehead.

"Don't get up traitor. You might as well die as you have lived. Looking up to your superiors." Hondo sneered. Lars tried hard not to freak out. Not only was this the first time that a weapon was drawn on him. It was also the first time someone was about to kill him. He swallowed. "Yes, it seems like that's something we'll have in common Hondo." The man waved his pistol. "Shut up! Any last words, huh?"

 _'He doesn't know, Akira! He doesn't know that he'll be caught in the attack.'_

"Not really... Do you? You still have some time to think them over, though." Lars replied.

 _'Come on, bite you little frak.'_

Lars saw a flicker of doubt on Hondo's face, creeping from his eyes to his mouth. His thin black eyebrows curling up. And he knew he had him. "What do you mean Akira. Are you supposed to know something that I don't? Spill it before I blast away your skull." Lars got in a crouching position. Hondo didn't lower the gun, but Lars felt that the other man had lost his edge. He was afraid that he has been left out of the loop and that he was missing some vital piece of information. Lars took a look at the platform they were both standing on. The 2-by-2 metal plate hung from a thick chain, splitting up into four thinner chains each attached to heavily corroded metal eyes at the four corners of the grate. Below, in the darkness, Lars could no longer see how thousands of gallons of water crashed down into the huge reservoir, but he heard it all the same. He lowered his voice, causing the other man to concentrate even more on what he was saying.

"Seems like Zephr isn't sharing all of his information with you... Pity." Lars slowly stood up and feinted having to keep his balance on the thin metal grate. "What are you not telling me? Have they sabotaged another ship? Get on with it Akira!" Lars shrugged. "Zephr knows. He'll tell you..." Lars takes one step backwards, coming to the edge of the platform. "He'll tell you... when you see him in hell." And even as the last words came over his lips, Lars bounced of the platform, sending it swinging backwards. "YIPPIE-KA-YAY MOTHERFRAKKER!"

As Lars fell down, he saw the utterly surprised face of Hondo, followed by a look of anger when he fired his pistol. The shot went wide and as Lars grabbed the edge of the platform, adding to its momentum, he only got a glimpse of the look of fear in Hondo's eyes when he lost his balance and was hurtled forwards, down towards the edge of the corroded iron grate. He tried to grab one of the chains holding up the thing, but with the pistol in his hand, he failed to get a hold on the thin chain and with a scream he tumbled head over heels of the grate, plummeting to his demise.

"Akiraaaa!" His scream was smothered suddenly when he fell headfirst into one of the larger tubes protruding from the walls of the pit. A loud, wet thump followed seconds later by a splashing sound that was immediately drowned out in the roar of the hundreds of waterfalls. Panting, Lars held on to the platform for his dear life. With an effort that hurt his strained muscles, he managed to lift himself onto the platform again. There he lied down, surrounded by the thundering noise of the water.

* * *

 _+++5.512.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Rexon, Subsector Drake, Sector Yamata, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Harland II - naval docks - enforcer station Zulu Foxtrot+++_

Lars sat at the desk of Mahara, a solid, steel grey table upon which an organised chaos of documents, dataslates, evidence bags and maps was spread all over. The glass walls were covered with picts of suspects and timetables. The chair across his was empty, but at the other side of the glass walls, the halls were buzzing with activity. Teams of armoured enforcers were jogging to their transports, an Arbite techpriest was guiding a fleet of servitors through the maze of the precinct and even the deskjockeys were loading their pistols and shotguns. However, this escaped the attention of the ex-dockworker and soon to be ex-informant as he was staring in the distance, alone with his thoughts.

 _'You did it Akira. You've brought them down. Zephr is dead, killed by Mahara, and the Lord Fabricator of the Harland docks is in custody. You're alive and you'll be free to go. Back to your normal life, back to your routine. Back to safety.'_

Lars took a sip from the tepid recaf. A frown appeared on his face.

 _'Safe Akira? You think you're safe now? You're thinking that everything will go back to normal, like nothing happened? Like the chief of this facility hasn't been corrupted and that tomorrow everybody will just start reparing the_ Emperor's Fury _so that the Navy can keep us safe? Really Akira? Are you still that naive? Don't just think about the hundreds of Zephrs that are working at this docks, just think about the fact that the_ Lord Fabricator _has been working against the Emperor. If a man of his station has betrayed the Imperium, don't you think that safety is an illusion?'_

Lars put the mug down and swept his eyes. These thoughts got him nowhere. If only Mahara came to release him from his duties. She had said that she'd try to make something good come his way. A double pay, or a better working regime, although Lars had argued that he just wanted to resume his normal life.

 _'As if that is going to happen, Akira. Where is that_ hynda _anyway?'_

Just as Lars stood up, trying to discern Mahara beyond the glass wall, all the lights on the floor lit up for an instant and then turned black. All of them. At the same time. After a few seconds the red emergency lights came on, bathing the offices and cubicles in a faint light. Lars could see surprised faces among the officers standing outside. Until the emergency lights died as well. After another few seconds it became clear that they were down permanently and a few dozen curses were heard outside. Through the glass, Lars could see that some of the enforcers had found their stablights and hard, white beams of light were cast through the large hall, next to Mahara's office. Lars hesitated.

 _'Should you just stay here, waiting for Mahara, Akira, or...'_

His thoughts were interrupted when he felt a tremor through the floorplates. An instant later a soft and distant rumbling could be heard, before it died away. More yells of the officers outside followed and most of them seemed to move towards the exit of the hall.

 _'Alright, that's settled then, Akira. Time to move.'_

However, before getting out of there, Lars stumbled through the room, heading for the large metal grey locker in the corner of the room. He remembered that Mahara's equipment was stashed there. She had put it there herself when he had spoken with her half an hour ago. Rummaging through the outfits, he discarded a dress uniform, some woman hygiene products and some sort of yearbook. At the back of the locker, he found a reinforced bodyglove, a holster with a shockmaul and a shoulderholster with a compact boltpistol. Lars whistled softly.

 _'They sure take care of you, once you get that badge.'_

A few minutes later, Lars was ready to go, the bodyglove stretched to the limit - his wrists and ankles were sticking out of the sleeves and the trouser. The shockmaul was attached to some sort of safetybelt and the boltpistol was in his good hand. Lars felt it was too much trouble to adjust the girdles to keep the holster. He had to abandon the boots and gloves too. He was quite sure that if he could see himself, he'd look ridiculous, but with the lack of light, he was spared the sight. In his off hand he held a steel, reinforced stablight. It looked more like a baton and Lars was quite sure that it could be employed as an improvised club. He was also convinced that even as an improvised weapon, thanks to the reinforcement, it would crack skulls like any other bludgeon.

Slowly, Lars started moving to the exit of the room. Twenty or so desks were lined up in the room beyond, probably Mahara's staff but everybody had left by now.

 _'So what now Akira? You're being reckless once more. You haven't got the faintest idea what is going on.'_

Coming at the exit of the room, which led to a large stairwell that connected the ten floors and the two basement-levels with each other, he saw that the enforcers could do with some help. At the bottom of the stairwell, bodies were strewn like puppets cut from their cords. Also, there was a flickering light that could only mean one thing: Fire, and a big one too. Probably near the entrance of the precinct.

"Throne on Terra!" Lars cursed. The stairwell was devoid of other people, so there was no one to lead him out, or even tell him what to do. Lars started running down the stairs.

 _'The automatic fire extinguishing protocols aren't working, Akira...'_

Lars started skipping several steps at the end of each flight of stairs.

 _'If those aren't working, it means you could suffocate in this tin box.'_

Again Lars sped up, sliding from the banisters. Until he suddenly stopped, two levels above the ground floor.

 _'The automatic fire extinguishing protocols aren't working. Why Akira? Why wouldn't they be working?... Because someone turned them off.'_

At that moment, Lars heard beneath him the sound of metal on the polished rockcrete floors. A rhytmic pounding, almost like a marching band. Lars moved to the bannister and sneaked a peek. At the groundfloor level, he could see a squad of six techpriests. However, they were holding large, lancelike objects and they were wearing some sort of humming backpacks. Red laser beams protruded from the objects.

 _'Those aren't regular techpriests, Akira. No robes. No mechadendrites. And...'_

Suddenly one of the figures turned to its right and a thudding sound was heard, together with red flashes coming from the weapon. Someone, probably an enforcer, cried out in pain, until it suddenly stopped. The figure who had opened fire spoke up. "Ground floor, entrance hallway. Clear. All threats neutralized. First squad. Proceed to upper levels. Attack pattern Omega 5. Second squad. Continue to mission objective. Two floors down. Coordinates 85-98-65. Procure reinforcements to set up perimeter."

 _'Skitarii, Akira. Throne! Mahara must have overlooked the fact that the Lord Fabricator wouldn't go down without a fight.'_

Lars wasn't allowed to ponder the stupidity - or perhaps just misjudged audacity - of Mahara. The first squad of skitarii already moved up the stairs, methodically scanning for hidden threats or injured enforcers. Without sparing another thought on it, Lars slowly and quietly moved back, hiding behind a corner, while he gently tried to displace one of the service hatches that gave access to the sewage system.

 _'If you want a chance to survive this, Akira, you need to move to known territory. Besides it seems like the only way to escape these fraggers.'_

Sheltered behind the hatch, Lars heard the rhytmic Kssh-pang-chrrrr-Kssh-pang-chrrrrr-Kssh-pang that announced the arrival of the skitarii. A minute later he stood in one of the main sewage tunnels, getting ready to move out of the area when suddenly something beeped. "Piiiuuw - Scrchrchrch - ira - Scrchrchrch - ou copy?" Lars froze and lit up the area around him with the glowpack. "Aki...Scrchch...Do you co...Scrchchch?" At that point Lars acknowledged the vox unit hanging from his belt. He cursed quietly and tried to pull the thing out of its holster, franticly trying to turn it off, but then the hissing stopped and Mahara's voice came through clear. "Akira. This is Mahara. Do you copy? Come in Akira!" Another voice interrupted the arbitrator. "It's no good ma'am. Those cogjocks must have jammed the signal. Who are you calling anyway?" Lars could picture Mahara scowling. "Shut up Jenkins. Akira is perhaps the only one who can save us now. Akira, come in! Gah. Emperor be with us now. Let that frag hear the signal. Akira, do you copy!" Instead of answering, Lars pressed the voxunit close to his chest, muffling the noise of the unit. He shone down the tunnel to see if anyone heard him, but luckily no red laser dots appeared, neither did he hear the metallic clang of death.

 _'If you drop this thing right here, right now Akira, no one will ever know she reached you.'_

Lars wasn't especially fond of Mahara. The Arbite has coerced him into cooperating, putting his life on the line. And what had it bought him. Nothing. A meagre double week salary. But Svenssons words about duty to the Imperium chimed through Lars' head. The thought of Svensonshamed him once more.

 _'You're gonna give up now Akira? The Fabricator is in jail. Thanks to you. You're gonna throw that away now, when things get a bit rougher? You're on your own turf now. Those Skits have squat on you.'_

"Ma'am Mahara. This is Akira. What do you need me to do?" Lars replied over the vox, already expecting to get in deeper trouble than ever.


	5. Chapter 5: Entrapped

Lars quietly cursed the arbitrator as he climbed the narrow ladder to the top of the enforcer block. He guessed he was nearly at the top, coming to the end of his trip through the maintenance network of the building. Far below he heard a soft rumbling every now an then. The skitarii were busy blowing through the last remaining defensive positions of the enforcers in their dungeon. Coming at the top, Lars hoisted himself over the edge and checked his surroundings, crouching as to give an enemy the smallest target. The light of the stablight revealed nothing unexpected. The small room was stuffed on all sides with pipes and tubes. A small service hatch was the only exit from the cramped space. Carefully, Lars pulled the handle of the shutter, dousing the torch to make sure he didn't betray his position to anyone outside. Thankfully, the hatch didn't make a sound as it swung outwards. With a feeling of trepidation, Lars entered the hallway, fully aware of the soft noises he was making: the rustling of the bodyglove as he crouched his legs, the tinkling of the shockmaul as it softly hit the edge of the hatch, the soft thud of his boots when they hit the flakboard floor.

 _'Get on with it Akira. The skits must have scanned the precinct and established that everyone, except you, is down in the dungeon, making sure the Lord Fabricator doesn't escape. They won't hold out forever, so move it.'_

Not running, but walking quickly, Lars moved down the hall. His target was another maintenance room at the other end of the building. When he passed the central staircase, he slowed his pace and sneaked to the corner. Peeking around it in the darkness, Lars tried to discern whether any of the skitarii were there to intercept him. But there was no movement, no little red lights, indicating the presence of skitarii and no noise to prove him wrong. With a sigh of relieve, Lars walked on, past the doors of the offices of the brass that resided on this floor.

"Hostile." a monotone voice said from behind him. Lars threw himself to the ground and felt superheated air above him as the skitari fired his rifle. Looking back and aiming his borrowed bolt pistol happened in an instant. The Mechanicus soldier was halfway through a doorway of one of the offices, four red lenses whirring and focusing on its target, the massive weapon already moving to aim at Lars' chest.

Lars pulled the trigger instinctively, trice. The first boltshell hit the skitari in the arm, ripping away pieces of metal as the bolt exploded. Due to the impact, the skitari's second shot missed Lars by a hair's width, but burned a hole in the flakboard beside him. The second bolt hit the soldier square in the chest and Lars could see how this shortcircuited some vital implants of the thing. At least, Lars believed that the electric blue sparks lighting up the hallway weren't something the skitari could recover from in an instant. The third shot, more by luck than by skill, blasted away the head of the thing. The skitari couldn't even cry out as his voxbox was uytterly and completely destroyed. Panting, Lars got up, looking at the mess he'd made. He could only pause for a second though, because beneath him, he could hear the clanking of other skitarii.

 _'It seems those skits are more thorough than Mahara thought, Akira. Curse her.'_

Abandoning all attempts at stealth, Lars raced to the other end of the corridor. He opened the last door and slammed it shut behind him. A metal rack stood next to the door. He didn't hesitate to pull it down. He knew it would only slow them down, but every second he gained, was one that he'd need. On the other side of the room, a voidsuit stood on a standard, just like Mahara had promised. 'It'll only take a minute to put on. You'll see.' she'd said. Lars could only hope that her judgement would be more sound on this than it had been on her impromptu and ill-omened plan to detain the Fabricator General.

Lars had worked once on the outside of the _Emperor's Fury_ , but that work was normally reserved for H-gang, V-gang and occasionally I-gang. It required a special kind of men, with a special kind of attitude. Fooling around or cracking off jokes was something alien to those dockworkers. If they came to the bar, they were a solemn bunch, only drinking to forget it seemed. Lars could relate to that feeling, but it wasn't something he felt himself most of the time. It was only when Svenson had told him that the mortality rate of H, I and V was four times as high as the rates of the other gangs, Lars came to understand them a bit he was putting on a suit and going into the void without the training, the preparation or the attitude of those men. This wouldn't go slow and steady, but it would be fast and improvised. Two things that didn't combine all too well with this line of work.

Finally, Lars put on the helmet of the suit and ignited the two lumencasters mounted on it. Even through the suit's insulation he could hear the pounding on the door of the maintenance room. He was a bit surprised when he'd heard the skitarii coming closer to the door, but not hearing the familiar thudding of their weapons. Apparently, they weren't taking any chances and were trying to ram through the door the old fashioned way.

Lars entered the airlock and had to drudge himself into the coffinlike space. The bulky suit wasn't helping as he tried to close the hatch of the airlock. Just as he closed the door and put the bolt in place, the skitarii bursted through the other door. Emotionless, the specimen that punched through, raised its weapon and released a barrage at the small glass window in the door. The lasfire splashed from the armourcrys and Lars was happy that whoever built the precinct, hadn't cut any corners. Without wasting time he started to spin the wheel to make sure the door remained locked, even as the skitarii were streaming into the small room, trying to wrench the airlock back open.

Lars hit the emergency release and almost immediately the skitarii stopped their activity. Lars couldn't hear them, but with a satisfactory smirk on his face, he imagined one of them stating 'Update: Airlock opened. Progession ill-adviced. Backup plan needed'. There wouldn't be a backup plan though, Mahara had told him that as soon as he would be able to open the hatch to the void, no one would follow him. Only a fool would risk a total blow out of the precinct. Lars started climbing the small and sturdy ladder to the rooftop of the precinct, activating and deactivating the magboots carefully, not to lose contact with the metal ladder. If he would lose his footing, everything would have been for naught. His progress slowed down to a crawl. He was safe anyway.

 _'Emperor save you Akira. What are those fraggers doing?'_

As Lars passed onto the roof, he could see through the small armourcrys port-hole that the skitarii were putting up some kind of device. Lars waits a second to see what happened when suddenly the copper coloured thing started moving and some sort of energy field formed at the center of it. A moment later, the blue forcefield started expanding violently.

 _'Whatever they are doing Akira, it can't be good news.'_

He opened a channel to the arbitrator. "Lars to Mahara. Lars to Mahara. Do you copy?" *Scrrrrrchhchchchchchchchchchchhc* the sound of static tore in his ears. Nervously, he tried again on a different channel. "Come on fraggers! Lars to Mahara. Come in. I need advice!" *Scrrrrchhchchchchchchchchch* The only thing coming through the vox was static. Lars checked the suit and saw a wire floating in the void. In his haste to don the suit, he had forgotten to attach the voxcables.

 _'Blast. Let's just hope that's the only thing that isn't connected Akira... You're on your own then.'_

Deciding that there was no one who would help him, Lars started moving again. It wasn't courage that drove him. It was more a mixture of resolve and fear. A few minutes later, Lars stood at the vox mast of the precinct. Like Mahara had said, the antenna reached out into the void, resembling a long stretched out fork, grating the stars. The thing easily measured a hundred metres in height, but at the top it would only be a foot wide.

 _'Lucky you, Akira. You don't have to climb the thing.'_

At the base of the antenna, an area of about a 100 square metres, a dozen cogitators and relays were placed, all connected to the large steel spike protruding from the roof of the precinct with thick plastex covered cables. With deliberate, measured paces, Lars moved closer to the clutter of metal boxes, ranging from the smallest - the size of a cabin trunk - to the biggest - the size of a Chimera. Mahara had told him to find the one marked with a yellow lightning flash first. If he would be able to open it, he would find a large switch inside that would activate an emergency power system to get the other systems working. Then, he would need to locate another panel where a message could be transmitted manually.

With a bit of luck, Lars spotted the small power station as soon as he approached the antenna. Kneeling before the thing, he gathered all his strength and started pulling at the handle of the doors protecting the instruments inside. To his surprise the little grey door flew open without much protest. Inside a myriad of buttons and doused lights greeted him, but fortunately a large metal lever stood out in the middle of all the other controls. Lars imagined a soft humming coming from the station, but he knew it to be impossible.

 _'No sound in the void Akira. Just your mind playing tricks with you. Now pull the lever and hope that you don't get electrocuted.'_

Although Lars had to exert some power to budge the switch, before long he felt a mechanic click through the suit's glove. If the thing started humming, Lars still wouldn't have heard it, but the little lights of the station started flickering, like a festive banner on Saint Jules day.

 _'Right, on to the next one. You're doing fine Akira. Just don't lose your footing.'_

A look on his manometer told him that he should be hurrying up though. So without further ado, Lars started looking for the next control panel. This one wasn't equipped handily with a recognisable symbol. Mahara's tech adept had described it to Lars as 'a box of two by two by four with four or so thick black cables leaving the thing at its side'. Lars had thanked the adept at the time, but now he was cursing the man quite thoroughly as quite a few of the stations had black cables sticking out of their casings.

Lars was just moving to yet another system when his eyes detected movement at the edge of his vision. Quickly he focused on the movement, only to notice a cloud of white air, immediately sublimating in the extreme cold of the void. Lars saw that a few objects, perhaps maintenance equipment, was flying out in the void too. He started cursing, but broke into a laugh when he saw a skitari appearing out of the hole of the airlock only to see him flying away into the darkness, just like the tools that had disappeared already. He stopped laughing when another head of a skit peered out of the airlock, followed by its powerful body and armed lasweapon. This specimen seemed to have found better grip or didn't forget to activate it's magboots. Whatever the case, the skitari took a few controlled paces and seconds later it was checking the perimeter. Lars ducked behind the unit he had been checking and held his breath, anxious not to give his position away. A fraction of a second later he realized that although the soldier wouldn't hear him breathing, his lumencasters would give him away quite quickly. Shutting them off as fast as he could, he stayed in cover. Luckily the Skitari hadn't noticed him and started wandering off in the opposite direction. Lars whistled through his teeth and got ready to continue his search as another head of another Skitari popped up from the airlock.

 _'Curse that woman, Akira. Telling you that the skits wouldn't follow you here.'_

The second soldier scanned his immediate surroundings as well and started moving to Lars' right, but another set of red lenses was already visible at the edge of the temporary airlock. Lars decided that it was only a question of time before one of the skits would be walking his way. He could only assume that they were under the impression that he was a lone enforcer trying to escape the raid.

 _'When they'll realize that we're fighting back, Akira, things will take a turn for the worse.'_

Half a minute later in the twilight, Lars opened another station. This one seemed to be the correct one. A keypad figured next to a green pictscreen and a big black knob served as a frequency scanner. Lars started turning the thing until it indicated 75.44. To Lars this meant nothing, but Mahara had ensured him that help was at the other side of that channel. Lars risked a quick glance in the direction of the airlock before turning to the keypad.

"Frak." It was the only thing he managed to produce at the sight of a laserdot on the station's cover before him. When he followed the lasersight to its source a massive skitari is standing beside the airlock. His gun already pointed in his direction and it was only for his good reflexes, Lars was able to dodge the incoming fire.

 _'Throne on Terra, Akira. This thing better be resistant to lasfire.'_

As the red flashes over his head stopped, Lars popped out his head at the side of the station to assess the situation. Much to his dismay, the skit had voxed his little friends where he was hiding and they were all moving towards him, slowly but deliberately. Lars pictured them like an unstoppable wave of metal armour and las weapons. Cursing he turned his attention to the keypad. In the shadowy light, it was hard to make out the different gothic characters on the keys, but somehow he manages to put in the code Mahara had made him learn by heart. _'TT:JB;FR:AM;CNDTN:5;RDS:8'_ Again, Lars had no clue what would happen. Mahara only promised that help would come.

 _'It'll probably be too late for you though, Akira. She didn't count on those lasguns-on-legs following you out here. Throne, she didn't even think they would notice you up here.'_

The lasfire got more intense and Lars could see that at the back of the terminal, the protective sheet of metal was glowing red from the heat of the incoming fire. His eyes moved swiftly from left to right, looking for a new piece of cover, or, ideally, a hiding spot where he could sit the battle out. But all the other stations were at least four metres away and with these magboots, there was no way in the warp that he'd be able to sprint behind one of them before he'd be hit by at least a dozen shots from the skits. He hadn't got any weapons on him, so it was not like he'd be able to hold them off. The density of the lasfire increased even more so that a few of the bolts punched through the station he was hiding behind. Left and right from him a hail of lasfire put burn marks in the plasteel roof of the precinct. Until it suddenly stopped.

Surprised, Lars peeped around the corner of the badly damaged cogitatorunit. At first he was confused. The Skitarii had turned away from his position and were shooting in the void. Then, Lars tracked their fire until he saw a silver, sleek form, moving closer at high speed. As he peered into the starfilled horizon, he could see another silver coloured form coming closer. As the first one banked abruptly to the left, Lars realized what he was seeing.

 _'That's a frakking Dauntless, Akira.'_

The realisation that a Navy dogfighter was closing the distance between itself and the precinct, evoked another thought:

 _'Blast!'_

In a split second, he saw how the first of the two fighters launched a rocket, and immediately his body reacted, faster than Lars could have imagined. With a pinch of his thumbs, he unlocked both of his magboots and pushed off from the deck with all the strength he could muster. A second later he was tumbling through the void, the missile disappearing from his view. Moments later he saw the white flash and red afterglow of an explosion. Soon another explosion followed the first one and another, until Lars' involuntary travel made him lose track of the precinct and sent him sprawling into the void. His happiness about his survival quickly faded away as the space docks looked smaller by the minute and the needle indicating his airsupply entered the red zone.


	6. Chapter 6: Enlisting

_+++5.521.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Rexon, Subsector Drake, Sector Yamata, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++The Unwanting Revenge - medicae deck+++_

*Ierp, Ierp, Ierp, Ierp, Ierp, Ierp, Ierp, Ierp* A beeping, annoying noise woke Lars up.

 _'Can't they leave you in peace, Akira?'_

Peace was hardly the emotion he felt seconds later. Throughout all of his body he felt a tingling sensation which turned into a more aggravating form quite quickly, as if someone had started pricking him with thousands of fine needles. He tried to open his eyes, but he felt that he could not. The reflex movement to wipe his face was cut short before he could start. He felt terribly weak. The only thing that seemed to function was his hearing and all he could hear was the irritating sound. Frustrated that he couldn't move or see and quite annoyed by the pricking sensation, Lars waited to find out what would happen.

It felt like a long time later, but Lars guessed it hadn't been much longer than a few minutes, when he could wrench open his left eye. The light was blinding and through the small opening, he didn't perceive much more than a white fuzzy surface. However, only an instant later he heard the hissing of an automatic door, followed by footsteps on the floor. Lars focused on the sound: only one person entered the room.

"So Akira. My medical staff has informed me that you were awake, so I came down here to meet the hero who saved the day." a deep but warm voice said. Lars tried to utter some kind of greeting but he found the words wouldn't leave his mouth. Now that he became aware of it, he felt that his throat was dry and hoarse. "Ah. Just a moment good man." the man continued. Lars could hear the sound of a liquid being poured in a glass.

 _'That better be some high grade amasec, Akira.'_

To his disappointment it was only water, but it was fresh at least. The man had put the glass to Lars' lips and offered him tiny swigs of the fluid. "Careful man, I don't want you to choke now." The glass was taken away and Lars tried to focus his left eye on the source of the voice. However, the view of fuzzy white didn't change.

 _'Strange.'_

"I'm sure you want to know your situation." the warm voice continued as if Lars was sitting up attentively in his bed. Which of course, should be clear for the man to see, was not the case. "The docs tell me that you've suffered some minor ailments due to extensive exposure to the void. Your suit has protected you from the worst, otherwise you wouldn't have survived opening the airlock, but you bodged a few things while putting it on, so your oxygen leaked away and the heating elements only worked at half capacity. Luckily, we were able to pick you up before your situation deteriorated any further. So... You've been asleep for the last three days, recovering. You'll be able to regain all functionality after another week of treatment here. Your eyesight will improve, your muscles will strengthen and the scarring of your fingers, toes and... arhhem... other extremities will diminish."

 _'What the frak, Akira? Other extremities... is this frakker saying that your... that you've lost. Aaargh'_

"So all in all, you'll be quite alright." Lars could easily imagine an oaf sitting next to him, grinning wildly and far too enthusiastically. "Which means I can give you the good news. You'll be able to start serving me quite quickly. Of course, you'll need training, but we can take care of that. The most important qualities you've showed already. Resolve, relentlessness and a survival instinct. As far as I can reconstruct your story, you've been blessed by the Emperor, or you've got some supernatural reflexes, great perception and a good idea of tactics. Either way, I can use a man with those qualities. Besides, if I wouldn't take you, you can be sure that Mahara would. She said that you surprised her pleasantly. Coming from that woman, that is high praise. So, I'll make sure that you are transferred..." Lars had listened quietly at the rambling of the other man, but this went too far.

 _'Who the frak does this guy think he is, Akira?"_

He tried to speak up. "Wh... Ugh... Whoo..." "Ah, right, right. Quintessential good chap." The man laughed a warm-heartedly. "My name is judge Belloran, Arthur Belloran. You can call me Arthur if you like. When we're among ourselves, I don't really dig the whole 'almighty judge, honored member of the Adeptus Arbites, Savior of the Drake subsector'. It gets kind of old, real quickly and you're just wasting time that could be better spent on playing cards, drinking beer or cracking skulls." Lars found a new sympathy for this man that, although a bit too driven, seemed to share some very basic interests with him.

 _'If only he hadn't said 'cracking skulls, Akira. We would have been out of the woods then.'_

He tried to speak up again "Whh... uche uche uche..." He felt a pat on his shoulder. "Don't exert yourself chap, there'll be time to..." But Lars persisted. "Whhat... uche... do you... want?" When he answered, the man sounded a bit surprised. "Oh... You didn't catch up with me yet. Hmmm, that's a bit of a dissapointment. Perhaps you're not the sharpest knife in the drawer. No matter, no matter! Well... Quintessentially, you'll be my personal assistant. You'll be induced in the Adeptus Arbites and you'll keep the subsector safe. You're up for that, are you not old chap? It's a mighty nice job, you know. Our power is almost absolute, like the Lord Fabricator noticed recently, and you get to crack on crime and heretics most of the days. It's an absolute blast!" Overwhelmed, Lars couldn't really give a coherent answer. The prospects the judge was laying out for him, were far from attractive. "Ugh..." was all he could manage. Something Belloran somehow completely misinterpreted as enthusiasm. "Ha. I knew you would be in for this. It beats every other job, no? So. Stay here, get better and we'll see where we can go from there. Maybe I can squeeze you in the Enforcer program here at Rexon, if not, we'll provide your training here, aboard my ship: the Unwanting Revenge. But focus on getting better first, old chap. We'll see each other again soon enough, Emperor willing."

And with that last sentence, judge Belloran marched out of Lars' room and left the former dockworker with the thought that his troubles had only just begun.

* * *

Author's note:

So, if you're reading this, I would like to thank you for sticking with this first part of Lars' story so far. And I hope it's because you've been enjoying this story. All your comments, tips and remarks are most welcome and appreciated. I'm a bit worried about the grammar (especially the tenses of the verbs) as is only my third language. I'm definitely looking for feedback on style & "readability". Do you think these chapters are too short (or too long)?

I've written four more parts of this story (effectively stand alone adventures of Lars Akira and associates) and I'm planning on adding another one. So you can expect a few more posts soon.

Again, thanks for reading!


	7. Chapter 7: Interrogation

Author's note: I'm working with flashbacks in this chapter and I'm using the Imperial dating system for it, so be sure to check them to see how this story evolves. For more info on the dating system, see: wiki/Imperial_Dating_System

* * *

 **Operation Fallen Hero**

 _+++6.674.985.M41+++_  
 _+++Port Aquila, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Spear of Justice - Celblock Gamma+++_

"So, what is it gonna be?" Lars said, keeping his voice low and steady. "Just let it be, my friend. Your offer is as attractive as a wasted whore, high on obscura." the other replied, laughing, a shrill note to his voice, which Lars had thought of earlier as panic seeping in, but now considered as just another weird quirk of his target. "Sure... Dismiss it like that. You'll come to regret that." Lars smiled viciously, "Laugh all you want, friend. I'm gonna find out anyway." Suddenly, the laughter of his prisoner stopped. "Sure about that? My master has powerful tools." Lars shrugged. "And you believe mine without power? I'll throw my lot in with him any day. I wonder whether yours still remembers you when we're done." Lars replied, not impressed by the sudden seriousness of the other. "Ha. You'd be surprised. Neither you, nor your so-called master will have any power in this matter. You'll see." The mocking tone had returned in the prisoner's voice. "Alright. If that is your last word on the matter, the discussion is closed. I'll see you." Lars stood up from the polished plasteel table, but before he could shove his chair back under the table, the other replied. "No, my friend. I'll see you."

Without further commenting, Lars left the cell. Outside he sighed and moved over to the man dressed in black standing a few paces to the left. "Time to show me how good you are, Bilan. Make sure he has lost that attitude when I come visit him tomorrow, ok?" The chief chastener gave Lars a grim smile. "With pleasure, enforcer Akira. With pleasure..."

* * *

 _+++5.843.984.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++The Unwanting Revenge - Belloran's quarters+++_

Lars sat on the comfortable bench, listening to the story the judge was telling. At that point, the judge was standing next to his desk, one foot on the desktop, swinging the golden blade of his force sword from left to right, nearly cutting the ceiling. "At that point, he had nowhere to run Akira! However, the thug didn't want to surrender and..."

Although the judge was a gifted storyteller, Lars wondered what operation Fallen Hero would comprehend. The judge had started the briefing, but before long he had digressed and now he was telling the young enforcer about the time he had hunted some famous pirate, although Lars had never heard of the scum. "so we started our deadly dance once more. Each of us trying to get the upper hand in this mortal melee, but then..."

Although the man liked to hear himself talk and had the bothersome habit of assuming that everybody shared his enthusiasm for 'cracking skulls and hunting heretics' as the judge liked to put it, Lars liked the man a lot. After the fight at the precinct and his recovery period, Lars had heard that Arbitrator Mahara had wanted to put him in one of the enforcer units of Harland II. The judge had said that that line of work would be beneath Lars' capabilities. And, true to his word, he had personally overseen Lars' training. He had found some of the meanest NCOs aboard the _Revenge_ that had showed Lars all there was to know about shotguns, autoguns, handcannons and grenades. Lars had spent a considerable amount of time with the judge's personal aid who had led him through the labyrinth of departments, subdepartments, sections, special sections and regulations of the Adeptus Arbites. Lars knew that this had inconvenienced the judge quite a bit as Belloran wasn't as good an administrator as a storyteller.

"so when he finally fell beneath my blade, I was losing blood myself like an orc losing spittle. So..."

All in all, Lars found the judge a much better boss than technographer M5. He had also found out that underneath the facade of dashing, fast talking man of the hour, a brilliant mind hid, always on the lookout for abnormalities or anomalies. Always vigilant and always prepared to bet it all to vanquish evil on his path.

*Clunk, clunk*

"Ah, that must be Frank. Be so good as to let him in Akira." Lars smiled. "Yes, Arthur."

As Lars opened the door for the aid of the judge, Belloran stowed away his sword and rearranged two piles of dataslates that had suffered from his impassioned recounting of the battle at Targus Point. Frank Horrigan entered the room, carrying a tray of cups and a vacuum flask with tea. Lars could see that Belloran wasn't fooling anyone with the rummaging through the stacks of dataslates on his desk. "Be so good as to leave the mess, judge. You'll only make it worse." Horrigan said with his gruff voice.

Belloran looked up as if Frank had disturbed him while he was looking for some important information on one of the slates, but seeing the look on the other man's face, he laughed. "Alright Frank. But I was just telling young Akira here about operation Fallen Hero." Frank looked at Lars, seeing a blank piece of paper in the enforcer's hands, the ink on his pen already dried up. "I'm sure, your honor." he replied.

The aid looked back at Lars and started to give the briefing Lars had expected to receive from the judge. At least, he had expected the judge to come to it in the end. Lars wasn't surprised that Horrigan was giving the briefing. He had learned that even though the man didn't hold an official rank in the Adeptus Arbites, he was as close to the judge as one could be.

"As you know, we've never found out what motivated the Fabricator of Harland II to commit sabotage to the _Emperor's Fury_. What you don't know is that when we started to interrogate the honoured techpriest, we could only ascertain that the... man, had erased all of his memory-disks and that a certain substance had been injected in his bloodstream as to destroy his biological brain. We don't know if it was he himself that injected the drug, but we can't exclude the fact that it was a third party. Which leaves us..." "Which leaves us looking for the motives of the Fabricator and a possible assassin." Lars continued. "Almost correct Akira," Frank answered, "The lack of motive and the fact that a third party could be involved leads the judge to think that the fabricator wasn't the chief culprit in this operation. Someone else must be behind it." Lars frowned. "But you said that the interrogation of the Fabricator has been a _byst_. So how do you..." "You would give up just like that Lars? You know better than that, chap." Belloran interrupted.

Both him and Horrigan were looking intently at Lars. "Operation Fallen Hero, huh? You have found another lead." Lars concluded. "Clearly not by interrogating the Fabricator, but by another means. If I should guess, you have found a back-up system where the Fabricator has kept a copy of his data." The judge cheered. "Ha! I told you Frank. You owe me a tenner!" "Yes lord. It seems your confidence in enforcer Akira was justified." Frank said rather unimpressed, giving Lars a wink. Belloran didn't notice, to busy celebrating his little victory. "You bet my confidence was justified. Pay up man!"

Turning back to Lars, Belloran calmed down and continued. "Your reasoning is excellent Akira. We found a bunch of cogitators with all kinds of data on them. One of the leads points to a Lord Admiral. That is one of the loose ends that I'll be tying up. To shortcircuit any other schemes of the good Admiral, a show of force is warranted. However, we also found a link to a certain Yara Musondo. Our preliminary research has revealed that it is some kind of trader that spends a lot of time in deep space. He only occasionally shows up on the grid. That'll be your job, Lars. I want you to find out the connection between one of the most powerful techpriests of the subsector and a shady and with intermediate means endowed trader. I'm sure you'll find him soon enough, old chap. When you do, take him into custody, find out what his plan was and what else he has on the fire. Expropriate his ship and look for any additional leads. Or this fellow Musondo is a master at disguise and has hidden his true power awfully well, or he is just a middle man. In case of the latter, I'm sure you'll understand that I won't be satisfied without a good lead to the real power behind Musondo, but you figured that out already, didn't you Akira?" "Yes, Arthur." Lars replied a bit giddy now he knew that his boss was betting on him. The judge also seemed happy with himself. "See, I told you this was one of a kind Frank." "Yes you did your honor. Yes you did." Frank confirmed, a benevolent expression on his face. Arthur clapped his hands. "Now, let's have some of that fine tea, chaps!"

* * *

 _+++6.675.985.M41+++_  
 _+++Port Aquila, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Spear of Justice - Celblock Gamma+++_

Eight hours later, Lars stood in front of the same cell door where he left his prisoner with Bilan. A few minutes later, the chief chastener of the Spear of Justice walked out and saluted Lars. "He should be ready for you now, enforcer Akira. He seemed quite eager to talk." Lars nodded and thanked the man. Bilan was a master in his craft and relied more on chemicals and poisons to prepare his subjects than crude physical torture. Lars wasn't very big on injections, fumes or ointments, but Bilan got results. Lars prefered mindgames or, if the man or woman in front of him withstood that sort of thing, poking out an eyeball. He had been told by Horrigan that even if they knew that an implant could remedy the lack of an eye, most humans still had an irrational fear of losing their own eyesight. Unless you were interrogating a techpriest of course, but then one could argue how much humanity was still left in the members of the Adeptus Mechanicus.

As Bilan's understudy left the cell as well, carrying in each of his hands a flightcase with all kinds of drugs, Lars silently said a prayer to the Emperor. Bilan was an expert in his field, but the prisoner in the cell was supposed to be the spindle of the entire operation. If Lars didn't want operation Fallen Hero to fail, and with it, failing his master, he better got some answers from this man.

 _'Alright, let's see what you're working with Akira. No use in delaying this.'_

The man in the cell lay stretched out in a chair, his arms hanging from the sides, the manacles that tied him to the chair hanging loose. However, Lars made no mistakes. He doublechecked the irons and only when he was reassured that the man was still chained to the chair, he took a seat, facing the prisoner.

"So, _kamrat_. Ready to start talking? By now you must have realised that all your attempts at bargaining will lead to nothing other but more pain." "So it seems, enforcer. So it seems." the other said, his voice weak. "The only way to salvage your soul is to cooperate." Lars continued. "Phuh. My soul, you say. What do you know of my soul." forcelessly the man shook his head, defiant but without conviction. "I know that even the most blackened soul is looking for redemption. I'm not sure where the Ecclesiarchy stands on..." Lars began, trying to build on his supposed surrender. "I am past your petty redemption. In fact... I don't seek it. Your false Emperor hasn't got squat on..."

*Thmb*

Lars didn't hold back when he hit the man square on the jaw. The man's head lashed backwards and Lars felt that something had been broken. "Enough of you blasphemies. Why don't you tell me what Fyrran offered the Fabricator to betray the Imperium!" "Ah, back to this we are, enforcer?" For a moment Lars thought that Bilan had failed, the man's spirit too strong to be weakened or washed away by drugs. But then, the head of the prisoner sagged on his chest. The man shivered.

"Fyrran only offered him what I had showed the good fabricator general first." he said and Lars could hear self-loathing in his voice, as if he still wanted to resist but couldn't find the strength to do so. "We know about the lost planet," Lars cut in, "But is is only a rock in space. Nothing more than an oversized asteroid spinning around a cold sun." The man across the arbite snickered. "I'm sure that your maps indicate it as such. But ask yourself enforcer, why was the planet hidden in the first place? What could be the reason for this." the man smiled weakly, as if he enjoyed the fact that he still had superior knowledge. "What bait did you dangle in front of the Fabricator?" "You disappoint me, enforcer. You don't know the history of your glorious empire, do you? ... It was a forge world, quite advanced actually. In fact, they became so advanced that the Mechanicus judged them heretechs." Lars leaned back. This was new information, but he didn't know how to connect it to the rest of the case. "Even if this is true, that still doesn't explain how the Fabricator got mixed up in your conspiracy." "Oh but it does. It does." the man reapeated more forcefully. "Think enforcer. You already found the answer."

Lars sat back in his chair and let his mind wonder.


	8. Chapter 8: Boarding action

_+++6.983.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Gyrax, Subsector Myrren, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Maiden of the Void - Command Deck+++_

Lars was reloading his sturdy shotgun, just like the squad of five troopers next to him. The hall stank of burned powder and shells lay everywhere. The sudden motion of an iron appendix, a bit further down the hall, made the man next to him wince. Lars grabbed his stubber and put another bullet in the combat servitor. With a fizzle, the arm slumped to the ground and more oil mixed with the pool of blood that was steadily spreading over the floor. In front of Lars the bodies of two of his men and three servitors lay tangled up in one big heap of flesh and steel.

They had boarded the _Maiden of the Void_ without too much trouble. The captain of the _Spear_ had fired on its engines and, with a bit of luck, had decommissioned the entire enginarium of the _Maiden_. The men had run to the boarding torpedoes and shortly thereafter they had been launched into space, crossing the hundreds of kilometers between the ships in what seemed to be an instant. Lars had looked at the ship from inside his tube. If ever there had been a ship with a less fitting name, he had yet to see it. The _Maiden_ had shown the wounds of at least a dozen battles. Most of them had been patched up quite hastily. Lars could tell that for the most part, the repairs had taken place outside the docks. You couldn't expect to get a good result without hauling the ship in one of them for repairs, but apparently the captain, Musondo, didn't really mind the fact that his ship would be in suboptimal shape.

Besides the war scarring of the _Maiden_ , Lars had also seen some extensive and mostly improvised modifications of the ship. It had once been a trader, but now it seemed more like a cargolifter, the walker variant. Two large metal beams protruded from the prow and large hatches had been cut out over multiple decks. It seemed that the ship was now more fit to salvage other ships than transporting cargo. Either way, Lars had been happy to notice that the crew of the ship was apparently sleeping or their weapon systems were decommissioned. After the barrage the _Spear_ had launched, no return fire had come.

"Enforcer Akira. We're all set." The voice came from corporal Benji sitting across the hallway. Lars checked the condition of his five remaining men. They were all shaken by the events. They had lost ten of their comrades to the fire of the battleservitors. Some of them had been equipped with heavy flamers. Apart from their mental state though, the five troopers were unharmed. Lars nodded at the corporal and stood up. If they wanted to breach the bridge, they better picked up some momentum.

"Ok, men. Behind the door at the end of the hall, we will find our target. I know we've lost a lot of our comrades here today, but let's not sully their sacrifice by giving up now. Our mission is to apprehend captain Musondo. Don't let the offer of your friends be in vain. The Emperor counts on us to fulfill this mission. No sacrifice is too big to do His will and rest assured that He is by our side when we will storm through that door. Because we are His warriors, defenders of mankind and we never fail!"

With that Lars started to run towards the door. Coming at plasteel slabs, he pointed at Webber. "Rig this with a krak Webber. Benji, when we punch through it, you let the flashes follow right away!" An enthusiastic 'Yes sir!' from Benji was enough to convince lars that his little speech had had some effect. "Just one grenade Webber. We don't want to kill anyone inside... Yet."

The trooper attached the grenade to the lock of the door and primed it. Lars could see how the man's hands were shaking, but to his credit, he attached the charge in less than ten seconds, leaving the besieged men inside little or no time to respond. "Ok, stand back and get ready to storm in!" Lars made a pumping motion and Webber hit the trigger.

*Kaboom*

Immediately corporal Benji threw in the flashbangs and the men averted their eyes. With a few dry thuds, the grenades went off and Lars stormed towards the door, followed closely by his squadmates. Inside, he expected to find coughing and gagging crewmembers, but he only heard a humming sound, pierced with the noise of iron joints and hydraulic movement. Lars ducked to his right and tried to spot a viable target. Behind him he heard his men storm onto the bridge and take cover as well.

When the fumes of the flashbangs had dissipated, Lars could see that the command throne was empty and that the bridgecrew consisted of a few dozen servitors. A few of them were hanging limp in their thrones, their systems probably fried when the _Spear_ had destroyed the propulsion system of the _Maiden_. Standing up, Lars approached the throne, but a sudden movement made him hit the deck again. A hand protruding from a red robe fired a laspistol in his general direction. Although the enemy's shot went wide, Lars' men didn't hesitate and provided covering fire. The command throne got peppered with buckshot and Lars ran and flanked the enemy.

"Get down on the deck! Now fragger!" Lars screamed when he pushed his shotgun around the now, quite badly damaged, throne. "Affirmative." a metallic sounding voice said, coming from the heap of red Mechanicus robes. Lars looked down on the techpriest. His men checked the bridge but there was no trace of Musondo. It seemed their quarry has eluded them. For now.

After they had established that there were no other threats on the bridge, Lars had interrogated the techpriest. In fact, it had appeared that the cogboy was a coggirl. Lars was a bit surprised at that, but he didn't take it into account when he questioned her further. The woman, a redhair with freckles, explained the strange situation of the dozens of servitors on the bridge. Apparently, Musondo wasn't really big on a human crew and he had refitted the _Maiden of the Void_ so that everything that could be dealt with by servitors had been automated. His human crew consisted only of nine individuals, and even then, six of them were former members of the Mechanicus, like the girl before him. To take over the ship and establish control it was imperative that Lars controlled the servitors. It was at that point that the techpriest pointed out with an anxious voice that control of the servitors could only be obtained via the command throne which had been sprayed with buckshot only minutes ago. Lars had silently cursed the eagerness of his fellow officers to blast at the throne without thinking.

 _'But they couldn't know it was a terrified techpriestess with a puny laspistol that was hiding behind it, Akira. It could have been just as easily Musondo himself, armed with a plasmapistol, getting ready to blast me to warp.'_

Lars checked the progress of the techpriest. "So what's your name, techpriest?" he asked rather crudely. "My designation was Hyarana-III, lord." the techpriest answered, fear still echoing in the voice coming from her vox box. "And how did you join this crew Hyarana? It seems the _Maiden_ isn't your standard Mechanicus ship. How long have you been serving here?" Lars continued the interrogation. "Attachment to crew has been... outside standard protocol. Service has been... 11111001010110... Err... 8 standard years, 320 standard days, 5 hours, 42 minutes and 03 seconds at this moment. Lord." Lars frowned. "I bet it wasn't standard protocol. Cough it up Hyarana, if you want to salvage anything from this situation, you better come clean... now." Lars finished the little routine. He kept the stub automatic unholstered to emphasize his words.

The techpriest continued to use some kind of powertool to connect some loose cables in the command throne. She cocked her head to the right as if she was deliberating Lars' request. But it could just as well be to check whether her work was satisfactory.

"Affirmative... Hyarana-III former designation Hyarana-II. Attached to Mechanicus exploration vessel _Omnissiah's Gaze_. Ship's scanners picked up unidentified asteroid. Protocol dictated class 4 investigation: mineral study, astrophysics trajectory patterns, density scans, moisture..." "Yes, yes. You performed all the necessary protocols to study this rock. But then what?" Lars interrupted annoyed, trying to determine if the woman just didn't know when to limit herself to the essentials. "Errr... Hyarana-II was ordered to assist on void expedition on asteroid. Exo-study according to optimal scenario. However, 3 hours, 21 minutes and 47 seconds later, _Omnissiah's Gaze_ suffered critical accident. Observations showed massive, minimal 14K ton, explosion at prow of the ship. Origin of incident unclear, but ship was lost to void in under 5 hours. No escape pods launched." "So, how did you get off that rock in space?" Lars asked a bit incredulous. As he had been lost in the void himself, he could relate to the feelings of Hyrana. Even if Mahara had sent a patrol to intercept him before he could die of suffocation or cold.  
"72 hours later, observation of new ship in system. Vox contact revealed _Maiden of the Void_. Captain made proposition. Our aid in exploiting the resources of the asteroid and further servitude in return for passage aboard _Maiden of the Void_. After risk analysis, proposition was accepted. Hyarana-III has been attached to vessel ever since."

Hyarana-III was finishing up the last solder of the internal cogitatorsystems of the throne. It seemed like she'd done a decent job. "And you didn't notice that your captain was, let's say, up to no good." Lars followed up. "Negative. Although missions outside standard Mechanicus protocols, salvage and exploration have been the two main objectives of captain." "So he never... hauled some special cargo or frightened other explorators?" "Negative. Captain told me that the ship had come under attack earlier. And four years ago we came under attack again from corsairs, but hostilities were always initiated by... adversaries."

With a soft bang, Hyarana attached the pierced protective cover to the throne. It might have been damaged but apparently the techpriest prefered to restore the throne as much as possible to its original state. In the meanwhile, Lars contemplated his next question. It was always hard to tell whether an adept of the Adeptus Mechanicus was telling you the truth. But Hyarana was still young and had little in the way of augmentations that masked her emotions.

"Then why did your master didn't answer our hails? It is clear that we carry out the will of the Emperor. Why didn't he yield and accepted our terms?" "Information lacking. I venture: Captain had his hand forced." The techpriestess shrugged apologetically. "Hrmm. And who would be forcing him. He was still master of this ship when we arrived, didn't he?" She repeated her gesture. "Errr... I repeat. Venture. Probability of error is considerable." Lars looked at his men. With their numbers, the search for the fugitive could take days or even weeks. If they would find Musondo at all aboard his ship.

 _'First things first Akira. Let's take away his last defences.'_

"Look here Hyarana. As far as I see you have been serving without a willingness to harm the Imperium."

 _'Although innocence proves nothing, Akira.'_

"If you help us to capture your captain alive, we might find a solution for your... predicament. Why don't you start by taking offline all remaining combat servitors. I'm sure that would make me and my buddies feel a lot more comfortable." "Throne on terra. If that ain't the truth." Corporal Benji chimed in. "Errrr... Affirmative." And with that answer, Hyarana-III buckled herself up in the command throne. She started using her hands to manipulate the keypads, build in the two armrests of the throne, but after just a few seconds she stopped and bended one of her mechadendrites over the back of the throne, right into a discretely hidden socket. After a few seconds of silence, Hyarana opened her eyes. "Combat servitors are offline, lord."

 _'Right, you've taken away his weapons, now you only need to trap him and take him into custody, Akira. But how are you going to find him.'_

Lars paced around the bridge. Looking at corporal Benji he asked for suggestions. "Well sir, perhaps Hyar over there could reprogram the targeting criteria for the combat servitors?" Lars dismissed the idea right away with an angry gesture of his hand. "You think he'll be able to survive that firepower? Remember corporal. We are here to take Musondo alive. Combat servitors don't aim to hurt. They aim to kill." The corporal stared at his feet and gave a noncommited grunt. The look on Benji's face darkened and Lars could hit himself when he thought back at the comrades they left behind in the hallways. Quickly, he grabbed the corporal by the shoulder and smiled. "No problem, Benji. Having no ideas at all is worse than having a bad idea."

 _'And hopefully that's enough to keep him focused on the job, Akira.'_

At that moment one of the troopers looked up and spoke out. "What if we shut down life support, section by section to force the suspect to the bridge. That way, we wouldn't need to search the ship. Musondo would come to us and we wouldn't break a sweat." Lars took a look at the man who had offered another plan unsollicited. "What's your name again trooper?" The man's face paled a bit, afraid that he had offered another bad idea. He swallowed. "Trooper Willis, sir. Was it a bad idea?" Lars smiled and reassured the trooper. "Quite the contrary Willis. It is an excellent idea."

With Willis' suggestion in mind, Lars prepared a warm welcome on the bridge for Musundo. There were only two access points to the bridge, one of those already savagely damaged by Lars and his men. Corporal Benji set Hyarana-III on welding duty. When she was done, Lars looked at her work and considered that she had performed a far better job than any other welder from his old gang, although the result was still rather shabby. But she'd done a great job with the materials at hand.

In the meanwhile the troopers had set up a barricade just behind the other set of damaged doors of the bridge. They had used the bodies of the battleservitors from the hallway and with joined forces they had also managed to dislodge the fried servitors from the bridgecrew to add to their cover.

Now, Lars was studying the blueprints of the ship, trying to figure out how to turn off life support to force Musondo to come to the bridge. After a while he concocted a plan that should work.

"Alright Hyarana. Get on the command throne and start taking out life support. Start with sections 42 till 39, decks 1 to 5. Just make sure that your captain has plenty of time to make a run for it." "Affirmative." Blurting out machine code, Hyarana-III started to fulfill Lars' wishes. Lars could follow on a pictscreen the status of the heating systems and the air recyclers. One by one, the individual units were turned off in the indicated sections. Lars waited for a couple of minutes.

"Right, that should be enough. Leave those turned off and continue with sections 38 till 35. decks, 1 till 10."  
"Affirmative, lord."

The process repeated itself multiple times and the plan seemed to work without flaw. They had restricted Musondo's mobility to the 5 decks under the bridge. Lars was just preparing the penultimate step when a burst of machine code interrupted his thoughts.

*1101010001010011101011011110001010101001110110100111010101110111110101011110110001100*

Lars looked up but saw that it wasn't Hyarana who was giving orders. One of the servitors further down on the bridge had started rambling. Lars looked expectantly at Hyarana for an explication.

"Ah...Errrr... Yes... Lord. It seems that someone launched an escape pod from section 24." "What?" Lars exclaimed. "How? We disconnected life support half an hour ago from that section. Are you messing with us Hyarana?" "Negative, lord, negative!" she hastily said, her fear showing itself in her anxious voice. "Errr." She seemed lost for words. "Well, don't sit there like a servitor yourself. How is this possible. Explain!" Lars rumbled. "Errr... Certainty: Escape pods provide own life support. Venture: Captain Musondo has escaped your trap." Lars would have liked to tell her that her conclusion was a rather open door she was kicking in, but refrained from doing so. "Right. He won't get far though."

Lars picked the vox channel of the _Spear_. " _Spear of Justice_. Come in. This is enforcer Akira. Please be informed that a rogue escape pod has been launched from the _Maiden of the Void_. Intercept this pod, but do not destroy. I repeat, do not destroy. It might be our quarry that is attempting to run. It is imperative that we can speak to him. Akira out." Lars turned back to Hyarana. "You see. We're prepared for..."

At that point, one of the men at the barricade screamed. Lars turned around to see what happened but at the same time he heard a loud clatter to his left. From the edges of his vision he could see how someone or something jumped from a newly made hole in the ceiling of the bridge. From the barricade the familiar sound of gunshots could be heard. Apparently his squadmembers had opened fire. Lars ran to the command throne to take cover and pull Hyarana from it. If she would be killed, Lars could start all over again. He could hear the tinkle of a grenade hitting the deck behind him, followed by a loud bang. Suddenly, a red hot pain stabbed through his back.

 _'Must be shrapnel. Get to cover now Akira!'_

With a final dive, he slammed into the techpriest and both of them fell behind the throne in a tangle of arms, legs and mechadendrites. For the second time this day, the throne was peppered with gunfire, only this time, it wasn't the relatively harmless buckshot. Lars felt an intense heat that sucked the air away. From the barricade he could hear corporal Benji screaming. "Give them warp, gents!"

From further down the hall, Lars heard the screams of wounded men, but he had no time to point out to Benji that they needed to take their target alive. He rolled on his belly and brought his stub automatic to bare. Under him, he could feel how Hyarana was trying to scramble closer to the commandthrone. Looking down the barrel, he could see how a tall man, wearing a hotchpotch of different pieces of armour, was running to the cover of the servitorbanks at the front of the bridge. In his left hand, he held a mean looking plasma pistol and with his right hand he was pulling another frag grenade from his bandelier. The man had a black face with thick, black curly hair sprouting from his skull. Little red beads and small silver rings were braided in his hair and Lars could only think of a feral worlder he had once seen on Harland II. The man had looked comical when surrounded with all the advanced tech of the naval docks. Suddenly Lars remembered the pict of the dossier on Musondo. The pict had showed a black man, although his hair had been shaved clean off, but the enemy that had ambushed them, clearly was the captain of the _Maiden_.

 _'If he is able to throw that grenade Akira, your party is over.'_

Lars aimed for the legs of the tall black man, but he didn't get a clean shot. It only took a few seconds, before Musondo had taken cover behind the first row of servitors. After that, Lars had to duck himself as the man released another bolt of plasma aimed in his general direction. Lars shrank back and felt the heat of the projectile flying over him where it slammed in one of the walls.

" _Dutty gyal_!" Lars heard the other man shouting, probably some sort of curse from his home world, wherever he came from. He ventured a look around the now smouldering command throne and could see that the other man was cursing his pistol as he threw it on the ground. Apparently it had overheated and the man couldn't hold on to it. Seeing as how the man was now practically unarmed, Lars got up. "You, stay here. And stay down." he barked at Hyarana. "Affirmative." the coggirl replied with a faint voice.

Lars walked over to the man, ignoring the shouts of his men behind him, still occupied with the attackers down the hall. The distance between himself and the man was about 15 metres. Trying to look imposing, Lars aimed square at the man's body and yelled. "In the name of the Holy Emperor and the Adeptus Arbites. Drop that fragger and get on the deck!" Clearly the other man wasn't impressed. "Die _bugga's_!" his reply came and without pause the man pulled back his arm and threw the grenade at the men at the barricade. Lars didn't hesitate and pulled the trigger.

*Tac-tac-tac - BOOM*

The sound of the explosion echoed through the room. Lars had shot the grenade in midair. The blast caught some bridge servitors and both Lars and Musondo got hit with shrapnel, harmlessly bouncing off their armour. Afterwards, corporal Benji would say that he hadn't seen a shot that excellent in his whole carreer, although Lars knew it had mostly been blind luck to hit the small projectile. Taking the initiative now, Lars stormed the position of the man, who found himself without weapons at hand. Lars heaved the pistol above his head and clobbered the man with it. Without much trouble the man went down and Lars looked around to assess the situation.

At the barricade, Benji was standing up and so was trooper Willis, but the other three had been done for. Lars started walking over when suddenly he could see that Benji's triumphant smile made place for a look of horror. He started to turn around, but he knew he was too slow. He could see from the corner of his eyes that Musondo had grabbed the plasmapistol and was aiming it at his back. Lars started to dive for the deck, but he already knew that he wouldn't make it.

*Bang, bang, bang*

The three shots from the stub revolver came as a complete surprise and hit Musondo in the arm, the face and the shoulder. Lars looked up and saw trooper Willis with his autopistol in the standard position, the barrel smoking. "Well done, Walter. Well done. I think enforcer Akira will buy you a beer after all. Even if you have just killed his main lead." Corporal Benji said, shaking his head, disbelief painted all across his face. Lars could only shake his head in surprise of what had happened.


	9. Chapter 9: Zero gravity wrestle

_+++6.984.984.M41+++_  
 _+++Gyrax, Subsector Myrren, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Firestorm - Bridge of the guncutter+++_

Lars was staring out in the void, strapped in one of the passenger seats of the Firestorm's cockpit, tracking a tiny blinking light through the armourcrys windows. They had left the launch bay of the _Spear_ and were now approaching the rogue pod. It had been launched more than nine hours ago, but the _Maiden_ had been en route to exit the Gyrax system so, if left alone, the pod would take over two weeks to cross the distance to the planet. It gave the Arbite plenty of time to intercept the lone metal capsule. So, Lars had reported back to the _Spear_ and had requested a guncutter to catch the fugitive, or fugitives from the _Maiden_. Captain O'Hara hadn't refused, but had looked quite cross when Lars came to the losses during his boarding action. With a grunt O'Hara had said not to lose any more of his crew and Lars had taken care of the briefing himself. In the back of the _Firestorm_ , a new squad of ten troopers were doing their ammochecks, loading their guns and sorting out their assault gear: grenades, manacles, ... Lars saw Corporal Benji and trooper Willis as well. They had been attached to the squad as Lars was sure that they would be motivated to bring this mission to an end.

The pilot looked over to Lars and pointed at the escape pod. "We will be on it in five minutes. I'll give technographer Djinn the sign to warm up the magnets." Lars nodded. His plan was to pull in the pod with the onboard magnetic clamp and to board it afterwards. They would see if their external chainsaw would be able to create a passage to the pod. If not, they would need to go in from outside. Lars didn't look forward to that. His last experience in the void had been sufficient for a lifetime. If he could avoid walking outside on the hull of the _Firestorm_ , he wouldn't mind one bit.

The _Firestorm_ came closer and the pilot started with his manoeuvres to adopt a parallel course to the pod. It was a tricky move; one hit from the heavily armoured _Firestorm_ could pierce the hull of the pod which would probably be the end of the fugitives aboard. From the back of the ship a loud humming could be heard as Djinn fired up the electromagnets. "It's working sir... Djinn, adjust power by a quarter though." The pilot reported. "We don't want them squashed."

A minute later, a loud clamour indicated that the pod was attached to the _Firestorm_. Lars thanked the pilot for his excellent steering and unbuckled himself to move to the back of the cutter. He floated through the cockpit door to find corporal Benji with technographer Djinn at the controls of the external chainsaw. Djinn was busy putting in the correct coordinates for the saw and injecting pressurised sacred oil in the controlpanel slit as to ensure a compliant machine spirit, while Benji, hanging upside down, was harrowing the somewhat scrawny technographer to get a move on.

"That's enough corporal. I'm sure the esteemed technographer is able to configure the chainsaw without your help." Benji did at least have the decency to blush. "Just want to finish this mission as fast as possible, sir." "Yes, yes. I see corporal. Djinn. Report please." Lars answered a bit annoyed, but what the corporal lacked in social skills, he made up for in enthusiasm and fire precision. "Report, yes sir. I've established a secure lock and have been able to set the boarding tube accordingly. Firing up the saw as we speak, sir."

Even though the boarding tube was separated from the crew bay of the _Firestorm_ with three layers of extra thick amourplating, they could hear the diamond tipped teeth rip in the escape pod's exterior, but they felt the results of the saw even more. Lars imagined that it would be worse in the pod. Perhaps the occupants would surrender immediately. But somehow, he doubted it. The perseverance of his quarry was quite formidable.

Suddenly the whining and vibrations stopped and they could hear a metal clang. Technographer Djinn reported rather dryly. "Connection has been established with the enemy vessel. Do you wish me to open the hatch to the tube?" "On my signal technographer." Lars replied quickly, "Benji, you're going in first. Willis, you'll follow and I'll jump in right after you. The rest of you, stand by and wait for my orders. Djinn, hit it!"

The three men took position against the ceiling of the _Firestorm_ , ready to sail down the boarding tube towards the pod. With a loud hissing the hatch of the _Firestorm_ moved to the side and the now considerably paler corporal jumped down the hole, gliding towards the pod. Willis didn't hesitate either and followed suit. Lars said a short prayer to the Emperor and jumped to follow the two troopers, hoping that their counterparts weren't laying in ambush.

Lars glided through the tube and turned midway to land on his feet on the escape pod's deck, only to jump away immediately to avoid being shot. However, no shots rang across the cramped space and the only noises Lars could hear was the excited breathing of Willis and Benji. As Lars managed to get a grip, he levelled his shotgun, but found only one target waiting. "Standby." Lars whispered in the bead, indicating all the troopers to keep their positions. Keeping his gun aimed at his target, he yelled. "You! Turn around and give us a show of hands."

At the far end of the pod, a small and bulky person stood, apparently using magboots to remain standing still. A black cloak with a red ribbon at the edge hung from his shoulders, the hood pulled over his head. Slowly, the figure turned around, revealing augmented hands protruding from two slits in the cape. Finally, its face became visible, appearing from under the hood. Lars looked incredulous and he could hear how corporal Benji suddenly drew in his breath. A blank iron plate appeared from under the hood, with a dozen little black holes drilled in a circular pattern where you would expect the mouth of a human. Or the voxgrill of a techpriest for that matter. No eyes, biological of augmented were visible, but it seemed like a high-pitched note could be heard, just outside the normal human range. The thing spread its arms and suddenly two mechadendrites became visible as well, unfolding from the thing's sides. Not a single weapon was visible, but as the arms continued to spread, Lars got a better look of the armour under the cape. The thing carried some sort of black armour, of an unknown material, bulky but kinda flexible, with the Mechanicus skull engraved on the chest. On closer inspection though, the symbol had been adapted. The skull had been crowned and the human part of the symbol seemed to be engraved with strange patterns. Lars took his eyes of it as the sign didn't make sense and caused a slight feeling of nausea. At that point the thing started talking, or at least, a voice could be heard.

"Ah. Enforcer. I have been expecting your arrival. It took you quite a long time. One would think that the Adeptus Arbites would move with more speed when one of my calibre is involved." Lars could see how Benji's trigger finger tightened and another look from the corner of his eye showed that trooper Willis had raised his shotgun to aim at the thing's head. "Yes, we strive to do our best, but even then delays can be expected." Lars replied cautiously. "And who might you be that you have such high expectations from us?" "Ahh. Captain Musondo didn't get the chance to introduce me, I see. I wondered what had happened with him. I am Fyrran, formerly Fantianus Aurelius from the Adeptus Mechanicus, but now just Fyrran. No longer member from the somewhat silly fellowship of the Mechanicus." It was of course impossible to read any expressions, but Lars couldn't shake the feeling that the techpriest continued to mock them. He swallowed and lowered his gun just a little. "I see. And what were you doing with captain Musondo? Were you serving him as a ship's techpriest?"

At that point, the blank iron slab started shuddering. A strange staccato sound accompanied the movement. *BzBzBzBzBzBzBz* "No enforcer. It was not I that served Musondo, but he that served me." Lars was a bit distraught by the unsettling sound that must have been Fyrran's laughter. "Care to explain that aboard the _Spear_?" corporal Benji cut in. "Ah, but of course... Corporal. I have no intention of staying aboard this useless pod. Certainly not when you have cut such a nice hole in it. Enforcer, will you lead the way, if you please?" Lars had expected a firefight and wasn't prepared at all for this strange techpriest with his sense of superiority.

 _'What does this strange frag wants, Akira?'_

However, he had meant to take the fugitives aboard this pod captive, so he stepped aside and made room for Fyrran to board the _Firestorm_. "After you, Fyrran. But consider yourself under arrest. If you didn't got the message from our coming already... Squad. One prisoner coming up the tube. Keep him secured until we're all up." With that final message delivered, Fyrran deactivated his magboots and sailed towards and into the tube, followed by Lars, Benji and Willis. Coming up on the deck of the _Firestorm_ , Lars saw Fyrran turning around. Just when the corporal got out of the tube - Lars could see Willis' face under him - Fyrran started talking again. "So, this is the competion. Pity."

 _'Frak!'_

Lars brought his shotgun up to aim, but suddenly Fyrran moved quicker than Lars' eyes could follow. He only heard the beep of the magboots reattaching themselves to the deck. His two mechadendrites rammed into the chests of two troopers, piercing their armour and cracking their ribcages with brute force. Two troopers opened fire, but Fyrran was no longer standing where he stood before, spinning backwards with a flikflak, throwing his steel encased feet in the face of a third trooper. Lars fired off a shot at the techpriest, but hit nothing but air. Corporal Benji opened fire with his stubber as well, but instead of hitting Fyrran, the leg of another trooper got pierced by the bullets, caught in the crossfire. Bubbles of blood spread out in the zero gravity cabin of the _Firestorm_.

Lars yelled. "To me men! Focus fire!" But even as three troopers behind him coordinated their fire and hit Fyrran in the chest, Lars could see that the techpriest wasn't slowing down, his armour apparently easily withstanding the punishment. Once more the mechadendrites shot forwards, crushing the windpipe of one trooper and sending another spinning around in the cabin. Lars pumped his shotgun to get off another shot, but he saw Fyrran charging towards him, heading for the bridge of the _Firestorm_. At that point a white flash engulfed the figure of the Fyrran, expanding even further like a lightning bolt, in a ballshaped pattern. Fyrran froze up and crashed, face first, into the deck, bouncing of it. From the tube, Willis's head sticked out, a wide grin on his face as he held the pin of a haywire grenade. But Lars could only look at him for a second as an instant later the lights in the shuttle shut off, the voxbead started hissing and shouting came from the cockpit.

"I think you owe Walter another beer, enforcer." Benji's voice could be heard from the dark. "Agreed." Lars replied. "Assuming we can make it back to the _Spear_ in one piece.


	10. Chapter 10: Goodbyes

_+++6.676.985.M41+++_  
 _+++Port Aquila, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Spear of Justice - Hall of Dogma+++_

A thin wisp of white vapor rose up from the mug in front of him. The tea hadn't helped to order his thoughts. Even though Bilan had done a good job and the prisoner had answered Lars' questions, the arbite still felt that he had even more questions than before. He had gone to the Hall of Dogma aboard the _Spear_ , hoping to find an answer there, surrounded by books and scrolls and a few cogitators. Like many a ship serving the Adeptus Arbites, the _Spear_ had a small library where Arbites could come to look for answers about Imperial law and regulations. Most of the time the room was empty, save the few adepts running it, since most questions about Imperial law are more easily answered with a boltgun and a shock maul. However, Lars had the feeling he'd missed something. Somehow the prisoner believed he already knew why the Fabricator had threwn in his lot with the heretics. And it must have had something to do with Fyrran.

Lars tried to visualize what happened with Fyrran and what he had told him, before he was dispatched. The techpriest had been batshit crazy. After being restored - at least some parts of him - Lars had enjoyed the moment when Fyrran had been trying to move around, helplessly trying to figure out what had happened to his mechadendrites. The interrogation had gone less than smooth though. Physical punishment seemed to have no effect on Fyrran and since the man was crazy, mental pressure hadn't been the solution either. The interrogation had gone on for days. Days of ranting, hysterical laughter - Lars still got the creeps of the crazy motion and sound Fyrran discharged when he seemed to be laughing - and silence. The blank slab of iron showed no emotions, revealed no clues about the truthfulness of whatever Fyrran had said. Finally, one of the techpriest of the _Spear_ had volunteered to use a MIU to access the data in Fyrran's brain. It had not gone well for the techpriest, but at least they had extracted another name, place and date. Which had led them to their current prisoner.

 _'So what am I missing? You got the next link in the chain here in custody. Think Akira.'_

"Everything alright sir?" Lars looked up, only to find trooper Walter Willis standing across his table. Lars had told Willis that his quick thinking and his luck had earned him a bit more attention. His knack for survival was a quality essential for a member of the Adeptus Arbites. As a result of this extra attention, trooper Willis was hard at work, trying to master the departments of the Arbites and getting a hold on the Lex Imperialis. Lars was sure that his tutorship was of a quality far below the lessons of Frank Horrigan, but one had to use the means at hand. Another much needed quality in an arbite.

 _'Just so, Akira. Because if you're in this crap, you should have no qualms about putting in others as well. Fragger.'_

Lars grinned and looked up at Willis. "Quite alright Willis. Quite alright. It's just that I can't seem to solve this riddle. What about you? Are you making progress?" "I'm not so sure, sir. There is just so much... reading to do. Give me a shotgun and a club any day of the week, but these books, they are killing me... Sir." he added, a bit late, but Lars' face showed he didn't mind. "When we're alone, you can call me Lars if you want to. When you meet the judge, he'll tell you the same. And if you meet the judge, you better show that know the difference between the justified and unjustified parley-procedures. I don't want you to embarass me in front of him." Lars could see how the introduction with the judge, wasn't something Willis was particularly looking forward to. Especially not if it meant that his knowledge of the law would be under scrutiny. "No sir. Erhm, Lars. It's just the sheer amount of history. I wouldn't mind learning about the law, but what good is it to know how the law has changed from century to century?" Lars laughed at that as he had felt exactly the same way when Horrigan had gone through the trouble of enlightening him about the finer judicial discussions of the High Marshalls from a few centuries ago. Still, he wouldn't let the younger man of the hook so easily. "Belloran always says that without the glowglobe of history, we're peering into a dark future Willis. And he seems to be right most of the..."

 _'Frak. That's it. Fyrran's history. I've only been looking at his last assignment and his contacts with the Lord Fabricator and our prisoner, when I should have been looking at his entire past. Where did he come from? And who did he meet before?'_

"Lars. You okay?" Willis disturbed Lars' train of thoughs and made him focus again. "Excellent Willis. Excellent. Continue with your study. Don't skip the parts about history. Belloran is right you know." Lars stood up and left the slightly dumbfounded Willis at the table. He checked his chrono. If you followed shiptime it was already late at night.

 _'No rest for the just, Akira. And no sleep in this case.'_

Lars walked straight to the cabin of the chief adept of the _Spear_. "Scholar Firellis. Get up! I need your expertise now!" Lars yelled, banging on the steel cabin door of the chief adept. After a few minutes of continued hammering on the door, Firellis appeared at the door, his annoyance and weariness of being waked so late, both equally visible. "Get dressed Firellis. I've got a job for you and I need you to do it now." Lars said, unyielding. "Ah, but... enforcer Akira. This will have to wait till tomorrow." the adept tried, perhaps hoping to save the better part of a night's rest. But the arbite was unrelenting. "No time to waste Firellis. I need to know this as soon as possible." Cursing and mumbling under his breath, Firellis got dressed and followed Lars back to the Hall of Dogma. There, Lars showed him the footage of the interrogation of Fyrran.

"Firellis. I need you to reconstruct Fyrran's history. Where he came from, why he wore that weird armour and what this symbol," Lars pointed at the modified Mechanicus symbol, "means. I'll tell the captain to head for the nearest hiveworld so that you can collaborate your findings with a Mechanicus temple. If you can send a message ahead before we go into transit, that would be optimal. So get a move on and start serving the Emperor!" From the look on Firellis' face, Lars could tell that not everybody aboard the _Spear_ shared his enthusiasm for justice.

 _'But Firellis' attitude isn't important, Akira. As long as you are enthusiastic enough to beat some sense of duty in them.'_

* * *

 _+++6.780.985.M41+++_  
 _+++Asteroid field Mars 747-5, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Spear of Justice - Shuttle bay alfa+++_

"So, this is goodbye then?" the prisoner said with the same shrill voice as always, a half smile on his face. "...Yes..." Lars had to admit, but it was clear to the other man it wasn't a wholehearted reply. "I told you so, didn't I?" the other man's smile grew bigger. "...Yes... Yes, you did." Lars had to admit again. "Pouting, are we? I didn't think I'd see you do that." Lars supposed he would have to endure the prisoner's mocking, and he wasn't about to lower himself to curses and namecalling. But he allowed himself one small retort. "Perhaps we'll meet again. If the Emperor allows it. I won't be standing aside that time." The mocking smile disappeared from the other man's face. Somehow, for some reason Lars couldn't fathom, the man turned serious, as if Lars had just read Imperial tarot cards and had cast a new destiny for the man. "You believe my faith to have turned? How curious... Perhaps one day..." Lars couldn't resist. "One day what? Spill it." The thoughtful expression on the prisoner's face remained. "Perhaps one day you'll experience this from the other side." "How so?" Lars replied and this time the prisoner was willing to talk. "All power corrupts. Don't think you're immune to it and don't think you don't own it." Despite himself, Lars had hoped for a meaningful answer, but now it seemed silly to expect that. The prisoner had been heady, every step of the way. Why whould that be different now. Lars cursed himself for playing along.

"Phuh. Back to mocking me. That's growing a bit old, don't you think?" It was a weak comeback, but at least it was something. There wasn't much Lars could do at this point. the prisoner didn't relent though. **"** Oh, but this time it wasn't mockery. This time it was sound advice. What goes up, must come down. It is not only true for gravity, but also for ambition. And aren't you ambitious." Lars tried to dismiss the man. He could see how the discussion would be cut short before long. "My only ambition is to serve." His response only provoked another wide grin from the prisoner. "And so you will Akira. So you will. And in serving you will advance. You'll think that ambition has nothing to do with it. That you have only been rewarded for your duty. It will happen. And after it has happened, you'll see." Lars bit one last time. "What?" "You'll see the same thing I'm seeing now. Perhaps we'll meet again there. I hope we do."

Before the conversation could continue any further, Lars had to stand at attention, while the prisoner beside him snarled. An old man in long chique robes had been approaching Lars and the prisoner and had finally come close enough to greet. The man was almost bald, only having a few grey strings of hair at the base of his skull, fluttering behind him in the air as he walked. Brown spots marred his face and his back was crooked by his old age. His right leg was a bionic replacement and it seemed that the thing was more powerful than his remaining, biological leg, even though the thing has seen better times. All these observations would point at an old, frail man, but the eyes that were staring at Lars from under thick, bristly eyebrows made sure Lars didn't treat him like that. In his wake, a small section of soldiers followed. They could have been Imperial Guard, but their cuirasses didn't show the doubleheaded eagle. Instead a golden I was engraved on their heavy armour and the weaponry they were carrying, put the regular lasgun of the average guardsman to shame.

"Enforcer Akira?" a nasal voice said. "Master Caligula the twenteeth, I presume?" Lars replied. "Yes. Here are the documents for transfer. Would you care to investigate?" The man pulled out two vella with several red wax seals that were showing the same symbol as the one on the soldier's chests: a skulled I. The symbol that would send fear through any Emperor fearing citizen.

 _'What is he playing at, Akira? Does he think you doubt him after he has showed up with his big Retribution-class battleship, his vanguard of mindscrubbed soldiers and this pompous entree. Or are you tricking me, fragger?'_

Lars accepted the documents and started reading them carefully and conscientiously. Apparently this was the correct decision. He could see a small but satisfied smile on Caligula's face, before it disappeared again after the facade of presumptuousness. Lars passed the documents to the man standing at his left. "Willis. This seems to be in order. Hand over the transcripts of all conversations and interrogations to the good master here." Caligula gracefully accepted the pile of papers from Willis. The trooper had done his best to bring a bit of order in the dossier, but Caligula just passed it on to one of his stooges.

"Let's proceed with the transfer, shall we?" the old man continued. Without another sign or signal two of the elite soldiers moved to the prisoner and lifted him from his feet, each one holding the man under an armpit. Without effort, they started walking back to the shuttle parked a bit further away.

As soon as he got carried away, the prisoner started yelling. "I told you Akira. I told you, neither you, nor your master would have anything to say in this matter. Hahahaha." The manic laughter continued till the man was carried inside the shuttle. Master Caligula didn't look up when the man broke out laughing and kept his eyes focused on Lars. "That was quite... unpleasant" he finally said, when the prisoner had disappeared into the shuttle.

Lars had tried to keep his feelings hidden during the transfer, but somehow the man must have guessed his thoughts, or perhaps Lars still had a thing or two to learn about keeping his game face on. "Don't worry enforcer. This man will not escape his due punishment. In fact, you can rest assured that whatever punishment you had in mind, my master will double it." Lars only nodded in reply to this. "So. I thank you for your cooperation enforcer. The Inquistion of Holy Terra salutes the efforts of the Adeptus Arbites. Please be so good to bring over my regards to judge Belloran." "I will master Caligula. May the Emperor watch over you." Lars answered, managing to declench his jaws and perhaps hide his frustration about the course of events. "And you enforcer, and you... Men. Dismissed."

In one crisp movement the rest of the squad turned 180 degrees and started marching back to the shuttle. Master Caligula turned slightly to the right to give an almost inperceivable nod to trooper Willis and with a whining noise coming from his right leg, he then turned away too to set course for his shuttle.

Half an hour later, Lars and Willis were standing on the observation platform of the _Spear_ , looking at the powerful battleship _Furnace of Wrath_. The current location of their former prisoner. "That's it then." said Willis. Lars could clearly hear the disappointment in his voice. "Yes Willis. But cheer up. Judge Belloran will most certainly have another target for us." "I'm sure Lars, but this... This leaves a sour feeling, you know." Lars remained silent at that, not willing to reinforce those feelings. After a while, Willis saluted and left Lars to his thoughts.

 _'It sure does feel sour Willis. Very sour indeed to let someone else leave with our prey, without justification or guarantee of justice. I wonder if he knew all along.'_

* * *

 _+++6.835.985.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++The Unwanting Revenge - Belloran's quarters+++_

The office looked the same as he last left it. The paintings of the predecessors of the judge were still hanging in place. The large wooden desk still dominated the entire room and stacks of dataslates were piled up on the table in front of the comfortable leather bench Lars was sitting in. They showed the dedication to order Lars had come to expect from the judge's assistant, Frank. In the corner of the room, the liquor cabinet was opened and all the exquisite bottles of amasec, dryké and what not, were neatly filed next to the different kinds of glasses that went with each bottle. After a while, Lars noticed that the judge's chair was a new model. Undoubtedly there was a story behind the replacement, probably involving the judge busy impersonating something or someone with a bit too much enthusiasm. Lars smiled. It was good to be back.

It's not before long when Lars' musings got disturbed. With a bit too much force the door was thrown open and Arthur Belloran marched in, a big smile on his face, giving Lars a mock salute as he immediately walked over to the desk. "Ah, enforcer Akira. Good to see you, old chap. It has been a while, but I heard you did well." Lars didn't reply to this.

 _'How can you think we did well.'_

As Lars didn't answer the judge's chearful invitation to debrief, Belloran looked up from his desk and studied Lars's face. "Well. It seems you aren't univocally agreeing with me. What is it man? Spit it out!" Lars hesitated. Perhaps he should review his opinion as Belloran seemed happy with the outcome.

"Did you join the Adepta Sororitas and took a sacred vow of silence while you were away Akira? Enough of this pondering man. Speak up!" the judge followed up, as Lars didn't answer as quickly as he wanted. "Well judge, I..." Lars commenced, only to be interrupted immediately. "Aaargh! Akira. You _have_ been working with those overzealous, stick in the arse-uptight, hierarchy-worshipping... eh... ladies! It's Arthur here, chap. Remember? Your buddy who you can talk to." Lars blushed. There wasn't a hair on his head that thought about the Adepta Sororitas like that. Just to call them like that seemed like heresy. "Yes Arthur. I remember. I just can't understand why you are so happy with the end result of my mission." Immediately the judge leaned forward. "How so? You did the job." Lars insisted. "On the contrary Arthur. Just when I was making progress, the Inquisition swoops in and takes away my last lead to get you your information." Belloran leaned back again and put his hands together, carefully matching all fingers. Lars was sure he did so to strike the impression of being thoughful. Something the judge failed strikingly. "Ah. I see old chap. It hurts your ego that they're running with all the glory, is that it? Well, let me tell you..." Now Lars really was annoyed. And since he had gotten permission to talk freely, he pushed his point. "No Arthur. That's not it. I'm not in it for the honour or the spoils of the victor. But you gave me a mission. To find out about Yara Musondo and his connection with the Fabricator. Moreover, you also asked me to follow up on any leads that could point us to the brains behind this operation. When the Inquisition showed up, they practically crippled my investigation. So, I'm on a dead end. That's what I came to report here. I've failed you."

Belloran stood up and walked over to the liquor cabinet. He seemed to have calmed down a bit, now that Lars had told him what had been bothering him. He poured two glasses of amasec and took one over to Lars. "Now, now, old chap. Before I say anything else. I think you've been doing an exemplary job. You tracked down Musondo - not the easiest job for a rookie - took over his ship - with some casualties, I'll admit, but still, you managed to take over his HQ - and you followed up on all the leads you had, uncovering what the bait has been for bringing in the Fabricator in this mess." "But." Lars tried to interrupt. "No buts Akira." the judge continued, "Uncovering that Fyrran had served under the Fabricator and had also visited a class-C quaranteened planet, while finding out about an illegal explorator fleet, has been a massive success. I'm sure the Mechanicus from this subsector is still reeling from your discoveries. Hehehe. Serves those selfrighteous buggers right, no?" "But the prisoner..." Lars tried again. "Ah yes, I'm sure you would have loved to get to the bottom of that." Belloran said with a well-meant smile, "Unfortunately for you, your request for information on Fyrran and the data you sent about your prisoner, made some alarms go off. Suddenly, I'm called of my hunt to trap the admiral by some illustrous inquisitor who tells me he has unfinished business with your prisoner. Mate, let me tell you. When the guys from the big I come knocking on your door, you smile, nod gently and give them what they want. I'm pretty sure that whatever you had in mind with your detainee... They've doubled the pain and have squeezed him for maximum result. A lot better than we would have done anyway. Be glad you've been able to help out the big guys. I'm not saying we're small fish ourselves exactly, but those guys are playing in another league entirely. Let me tell you about what happened at world's end about a decade ago. I was..."

And with that the judge had launched himself in yet another story. However Lars couldn't shake the feeling that even though the judge was satisfied with his performance and he claimed the Imperium profited more with this ending, he could have done more. It is only when Frank Horrigan entered the room, shaking his head as he saw the judge manhandling his chair once more, Lars' attention was directed elsewhere. Frank was holding a detailed and frail looking model of an Imperial ship in his hands. When Belloran looked up, he exclaimed: "Ah, look at it, splendid, splendid! Lars, may I introduce you to your next mission!"


	11. Chapter 11: Patrice

**Part 2: Operation Volantis**

 _+++5.195.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx - level Omega-65+++_

 _'Great Akira. Just great... Just when you thought everything was running smoothly, this happens. And this time you're not the only one who is in danger.'_

Lars observed his situation. He was sitting in what was, going by the smell, most certainly a pool of shit, his right arm hanging limp at his side and bleeding from a wound in his abdomen. However, not five feet away, lay the corpse of his assailant. No gun wounds. No, it was blind luck that made sure the hiver was laying there - face down in the filth - and not Lars himself. Looking up, Lars saw the pipe they tumbled out from, 10 feet higher.

Grunting, he tried to get up, but his feet lost their grip in the slush and with a curse he slid back down. Touching his belly, he tried to estimate the damage. Only a vague smear of blood stuck to his fingers, but it sure did hurt. The hiver, who had served as his guide through the maze of the pipes and tubes of the underhive of hive Styx, had turned on him just as he had tried to climb out of the pipe. It were only his trained reflexes that had allowed Lars to escape the worst of the knifing, turning away and catching part of the stab with his abs, avoiding any real damage to his intestines. The man had cursed and reached back to try again, but Lars hadn't given him the opportunity, swinging from the ledge. He had thrown his feet around the hiver's middle, hoping to knock the man over. Unfortunately, the man was surefooted and withstood his improvised attack with ease. He didn't, however, manage to withstand gravity. Lars held on with his legs, but fell back, down the shaft, pulling the hiver with him. Lars had landed on his right arm, breaking the bones, but his assailant had crashed head first in the undeep pool, breaking his neck in the process. Unfortunately, Lars' voxcaster was broken as well. And on first sight, it wasn't something he would be able to fix in an instant. He had to warn Willis though. If his guide had turned on him, his subordinate was definitely in danger. And he'd let the Warp freeze over before he'd let him down. The man had saved his life twice already. He would be damned if he didn't repay the service.

Lars looked for a handheld with his left hand, not thinking about whatever the wet and mushy substance he encountered, was. He got hold of some kind of iron ring and managed to pull himself up. The wound in his abdomen sent a searing pain through his body and Lars gasped. Trying to exhale calmly, he gathered his wits. He needed to get back to base. But base would be a deathtrap by now. They had established a field HQ in the building of Mokan Uriatu, a shady trader, but one that was connected and could get them to find what they were looking for. However, since his guide had been a member of Uriatu's personal guard, it was pretty clear that their HQ would be compromised.

Cursing, the arbite approached the dead guide. He definitely needed an edge on the cheating Uriatu. Luckily he found just that: A security keycard which would grant him access to Uriatu's personal quarters.

 _'That fragger is gonna pay, Akira.'_

"What in fething name are you doing there, scoundrel! Raise your hands over your head!" a voice called out. It was definitely a man, and he definitely meant business.

 _'Oh frak.'_

Lars turned around, slowly, keeping his left hand above his head. His right hand still hung uselessly at his side. "Why are you only lifting one fething arm, you fething bastard? Think you'll surprise me?" Lars halted his movement.

 _'What is it with their frakking dialect around here.'_

Freakish accent or not, Lars suspected the other man had a gun. And without his carapace armour, even a man with a puny laslock would be able to kill him. "Look mister," Lars began, "Since you aren't shooting me on sight, I presume you have some decency left in you. Perhaps even some respect for the Law. My right arm is broken, so I can't give you the pleasure of lifting it." Lars heard a click, probably a safety being released. "It's not really the moment to joke around, my fething friend." the other man replied, but he still gave Lars the chance to explain himself. "Then allow me to introduce myself. Regulator Akira, Adeptus Arbites. At your service, my good man." The other man remained silent for a few seconds, thinking over Lars' response. "Turn around!"

Lars completed his movement and looked at the figure standing a bit further away in the open sewer. To his surprise he saw an elderly man. Long white frayed hair on his head, a dirty white beard covering his face from ear to ear. Lars' attention was immediately drawn to the lasgun the man was carrying. It was an older model, but still quite popular among the guard units that trained on this ball of caustic water that Phlegethon was. Lars could see that the gun had been cared for. The charge pack had seen better days, but the barrel had been replaced some time ago. "Now you know who I am, you might want to share your own name with me." Lars said. The other man scowled. "I know jack-feth about you, fether. Anyone might call himself a fething arbite."

 _'Argh. This infuriating accent. Just say frak when you mean frak, fragger.'_

Clearly the man was nervous. And rightly so. Threatening a member of the Adeptus Arbites, wouldn't fall well with any of them. However, Lars realized that he was undercover and that on sight he could in no way be distinguished from yet another ganger in the underbelly of this city. "Look, I have some ID on me. Just take a look at this." Slowly, Lars brought his hand to his jacket. It always was risky to bring an ID to an undercover mission, but it really was worth it if you ran in with the enforcers, or worse, a fellow arbite - although chances on that were slim in this sector. If Lars himself would pick up an anonymous but armed scumbag, he would put him or her behind bars perhaps even faster, and once in the system as a prisoner, it could take years before you got the chance to explain yourself. If you weren't just shipped out to a penal colony for that matter. When Horrigan had told him this, Lars had swallowed. On his home world, the Mechanicus had their ways, and the prospect of becoming a servitor was far from alluring, but at least they were efficient in it. You were brought for some kind of jury quite fast. Lars had seen enough of his fellow workers join the band of nobrainers on short notice.

After a lot of rummaging through his pockets, he finally arrived at the hidden pouch and with grand movements and wide gestures he offered up the identicard to the stranger. Hesitantly, the man took a few steps in his direction, only momentarily releasing the lasgun with one hand to accept the little card with the golden aquila and the I-shaped symbol of the Arbites. "Sure looks real enough, fether... But I can't read, so what is it to me." he said after glancing over it.

 _'Frakking bastard. Enough is...'_

Lars crouched, making himself ready to jump the elderly man, but when he did, the pain in his abdomen doubled and he nearly collapsed again. "Well, whoever you are, you seem to be in need of some help." Lars coughed and took the outstretched arm of the stranger. "Patrice Garrant, or Doc as they call me down here. You can call me that too, A-Kee-ra". The man said, peering at the identicard and apparently being literate enough to at least distinguish his name. "Now follow me home, Akira. You'll need to come there, before you go anywhere else."


	12. Chapter 12: Under pression

_+++5.196.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx - level Omega-54+++_

They had walked for over two hours before they arrived at Doc's home. Although Lars considered it more of a hole than a home. He had been cursing and brooding his fate all the way there. He should have sent out a message to Willis, but with a broken vox unit and a broken arm, he wasn't going to get very far with that.

"Home sweet home, Akira. Get yourself a chair and sit down. I'll get my stuff." Patrice said, while hanging his lasgun on a little hook next to the door. Lars looked around. The little room used to be a maintenance room of a now abandoned water purification plant. It's walls were made of plasteel and only a single door gave access to the room. Most of the walls were covered with shoddy racks, showing an extensive collection of all kinds of crap: rusty powertools, empty bottles, broken cogwheels and even an ancient cogitator. In one of the corners laid a smelly matress, although the linnen seemed to be reasonably clean. In fact, although the place itself was a dump, the Doc kept it tidy. So was the coffer he put on the table. He opened it and Lars could see some old, but well maintained medical equipment.

"Let's look at that wound in your abdomen." Doc said, pulling up Lars' soaked shirt. Lars started to protest. "I'd rather want you to take a look at my arm. I need it fixed as soon as possible if I want a chance to..." But Patrice hadn't any patience for his qualms. "Shut up fether. You clearly don't know what is dangerous around here." "What's dangerous is a shell to your head." Lars bit back, but Patrice was staring him down as he spoke, waiting for the arbite to finish. "What's dangerous is _grippe_ _turturem_ or _morbille musculu_. It's just as deadly as your shotgun shell, but quite a lot more painful. So, sit down and shut up Akira. I know what I'm doing." Lars shut up as a shiver traveled up his spine. The briefing notes Horrigan provided him with, did speak of environmental dangers. He'd dismissed them when he saw the list of petty diseases, but here, far from medical service or back up, the risks were quite a bit larger than he'd care to contemplate. In the meanwhile, Patrice rummaged around in his bag, applying seemingly random fluids and ointments to the wound. It stung at first, but when the man attached a bandage to his abdomen, he felt better.

"Now look here Akira," the Doc said while pointing at the bandage, "You need to keep this dry and clean. I've applied all the desinfectants that I have at my disposal, and usually that's enough, but if you're thinking on wading through another dark end of this Emperor forsaken hive, think again. You might have been lucky now. Don't tempt your fate again." Lars gestured with his chin to his limp arm. "I'd much appreciate you fixing that as well." Patrice rummaged through another shelf with crap and came back with two metal rods and a power cable. "It just needs a splint, you see. This might hurt a bit. Suck it up, arbite" Lars groaned as the man pushed the rods as hard as he could against his upper arm. And once more when he bound them to his arm with the power cable. "You sure you won't electrify me with that, you daft?" he spit out, trying to bite back the pain. But Patrice's answer was equally sharp. "Don't be silly boy. We wouldn't want to waste the juice." Lars laughed, although not for long, since Patrice pulled hard on the cable to make a knot.

"Well thanks a bunch, Doc. But I need to get going now." Lars said, trying to keep an upbeat tone in his voice. It was wasted effort though. "You might as well stay," Patrice answered, "If you start moving now, that wound won't close properly and then all my work has been for naught. So stay down boy. Let me serve you some tanna. Something I picked up from another guard regiment, long ago." Lars sat back in his chair. He could feel how Patrice was right thanks to the throbbing, burning sensation in his abdomen. He sighed. "So you were in the Guard?" "Not quite the sharpest knife in the drawer, are you, eh?" Patrice replied, busy storing his medical equipment in the black grox-leather coffin. "I was just making conversation, you daft. Your lasgun and your training gave you away ages ago. As did your courtesy of not shooting me in the back. Who did you serve with? And how did you end up here?" Patrice sighed. "That's a long story... But since you're going nowhere." "I didn't ask for an epic, but go ahead." Lars replied.

As Patrice poured in a bitter smelling liquid, Lars frowned and reluctantly tried the beverage. The taste was awful, but it brought a warm feeling to his innards. "Actually, do you mind if I set to work on this?" Lars said pointing at his broken vox unit. "Not at all." Patrice replied, raising his cup in an approving gesture. "It won't stop you from listening." And as Lars tried to repair the vox unit, Patrice talked about his past as a guardsman. He served with the Keldis Rifles, a valiant regiment the man explained, although Lars had never heard of them. He'd seen battles against the Greenskin and survived them. After a few years, his commissar recommended him for medical training, since he had foolishly tried to save the life of one of his fellow soldiers. The commissar had inspected the victim, deemed his efforts futile and had shot the poor soul in the head with the words. "This one isn't worth saving Garrant. But you might save one another day. Now pick up your rifle and shoot at the enemy for the Emperor's glory!". Patrice recounted that although at first he had hated the man for it, he had been right. Wasting time and energy on the badly wounded was a mistake. The enemy wouldn't make the same mistake but would benefit from your waste of time. Bringing the lightly wounded back to fight once more, was something worthwhile. So Patrice received his training and managed to save the lives of numerous unfortunate troopers. He survived his twenty years of service and got a small amount of thrones and a ticket to a world he would want to live on. Unfortunately his papers got lost in the Administratum and although he wanted to head back to Keldis, instead he was shipped off to Phlegeton. The money he had wasn't enough to afford anything decent, so he took his money and moved to the underhive where he wouldn't have to pay rent, or at least, not regularly. Since then, he'd taken care of the more gentle souls that dwelled on the lower levels. The little community quickly came to care for the doc and provided him with food and drinks ever since.

As the story drew to an end, Lars heard static coming from the broken vox unit. "It seems your efforts are rewarded, just like mine are." Patrice commented, stepping in closer to check on Lars' bandages. "Yes, it only is a question of appeasing the machine spirit to make it look for the right frequency. Hold on." Lars replied, biting his lower lip, concentrating, hoping that the little machine spirit would be able to work in the bent and broken casing. He reached into the bag with medical equipment, pulled out a pair of pliers and started turning the knob that calibrated the antenna.

*Krrrcch. Dkdkkdkdkdkdkdk. Krrrrrch*... "ou might want to talk, friend. No one is *Krrrrchh* for you." Lars stopped his manipulations instantly and held his breath to listen in. "What do you mean. No one is coming for me?" Lars immediately recognized Willis' voice and silently praised the Omnissiah for His guidance. "It means that you shouldn't expect your _ami_ coming back any time soon." It was a bit harder to attach this voice to its owner, but the slang word made it click. Willis was talking to Uriatu, their contact on Phlegethon. "Huh. So you played us from the start." Willis still sounded defiant, but Uriatu hardly seemed impressed. "No. Not really. It was only when I noticed you were a bit more than you pretended to be that... Dishonesty changes things." Willis laughed rather grimly. "You don't say." Uriatu laughed as well, low and menacing. "So you're not even denying it." "Is there any reason to? You seem to have made up your mind already." Lars couldn't hear a single note of defeat in Willis' voice and he silently commended his comrade for it. "Not so fast. Not so fast... Although your friend might not have made it, you still have a chance to get out of here alive." Uriatu said, coaxing, but Willis answered with a voice dripping with sarcasm. "Very convincing... Very honest of you."

Still, Uriatu persisted. "Really, what have you got to lose? The only thing you could lose is a free session with my friend and his blowtorch over there." Lars could make out a vague, deep rumbing chuckle in the background. Probably one of Uriatu's goons. "Yeeah." Willis said, perhaps almost yawning, "So you say. But you'll never let me go, will you?" Now, both Uriatu and his helper laughed, their confidence ringing through their words. "Maybe, maybe not. Does it really matter? Jon knows what he's doing with his equipment. I would say that that would be enough reason to cooperate." Willis' voice turned serious. The sarcasm with which he had withstood the two men's threats, swopped for a more menacing tone. "You don't know who I work for." Uriatu didn't seem to notice as he continued mocking Lars' fellow arbite. "True. I don't... You want to come clean?"

The vox only hissed and crackled for a second. Clearly Willis was dragging this out. "I'm pondering the issue. It's really a choice you see?" Perhaps Uriatu noticed how Willis was stringing him along and now the annoyance was there to hear for anyone. "No. No, I don't see it, fether. What possible..." "It's a choice between your punishment and the punishment of my master." Willis interrupted, still deadbeat serious. "And who might your master be?" Uriatu asked. Willis didn't waste the opportunity for drama. "You might have heard of him. It's the notorious Salomon Kerviel of the Kerviel Dynasty." Lars could imagine the look on Uriatu's face. A look of disbelief and a faint glint of fear in his eyes.

 _'Well played Willis. That'll make him think twice before doing anything else.'_

The Kerviel Dynasty would be known to about every petty criminal in this part of the sector. And Salomon, the first heir-apparant to the throne of crime-lord David Kerviel, was the exponent of the violent rule of the Dynasty. Any criminal would be barking mad or suffer from delusions of grandeur if she or he would even think of thwarting one of their plays.

"You mean that you and your friend are members of..." Uriatu stammered, and then more angrily continued, "I knew something was up and that you weren't just greenhorn treasure hunters, but..." Silence fell in the room higher up in the hive. "How do I know you're not lying? Anyone could say that he's a member of the cartel." Uriatu said, but Lars could hear the doubt in his voice and Willis didn't do anything to comfort the man. "If you want to die painfully, indeed one could." Lars pictured the scene: Uriatu stepping back from the bound Willis, his henchman eyeing the arbite with a reluctant look of deference.

Eventually, the crime lord answered. "I need some time to think about this." And Lars could also picture the mean little smile with which Willis replied "You do that." Finally, Lars heard how Uriatu left the room. "I'll be back in an hour. Jon! Get out of here. I don't want you messing with him."

With the two thugs out of the room, Lars tried the vox unit. "Willis, do you copy? Willis, do you copy?" But the line remained silent. "Warp and blast!" cursed Lars. "I need to get him out. Quickly. He just bought himself some time, but as soon as Uriatu sees through his ploy, it's over for him." Patrice looked at Lars with a look of compassion, mixed with disbelief. "You went into business with Uriatu? He's the single most cunning criminal of this entire underhive. Where did you get your information? Whoever told you that you should be banging on his door for your cover was trying to get you killed. Or was just plain incompetent."

Lars frowned, but stood up from the chair. "That doesn't matter now. Can you take me to his hideout?" Patrice's look changed from disbelief to defiance. "You think I want to get myself involved? Think again fether." Lars took a step closer to the Doc. "You're talking to a member of the Adeptus Arbites. Think again, you daft." But Patrice stood up as well and leaned on the table. "I can take you there... if you keep me at gunpoint." Lars sighed. He didn't want to let it come to that. Patrice had helped him. It wouldn't do to alienate the doc and the people around here. If he wanted any chance to complete the mission, he needed to be able to come back here. "Don't worry old man. I'll get there by myself." Lars said resigned.

 _'Let's just hope you get there in time, Akira.'_


	13. Chapter 13: Uriatu's hideout

_+++5.196.986.M41+++_

 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_

 _+++Hive Styx - level Omega-31+++_

Lars had spent two hours getting back to Uriatu's home base. He had taken one of the ancient cable lifts that were still operational in the belly of hive Styx. You could see that the thick metal cables had oxidated due to the ever present acid in Phlegethon's atmosphere, but when he had looked at the machinery with a sense of trepidation, the local operator had laughed and said that the machines had looked like that since he had been a kid. And that his grandfather had said the same.

The arbite hadn't worried too much about the ancient machine spirits, but more about attracting unwanted attention from one of Uriatu's goons. The dossier they had pulled from the local enforcer squadron clearly had underestimated the capabilities of the crime lord. In the dossier Uriatu had been described as a fence that dabbled in smuggling. The ideal candidate to know more about the faith of the _Menapi_ _Volantis_. And their hunch had been a good one, since Uriatu had told them that he had in fact a lead on the missing ship. Lars had believed that he could have bought Uriatu's loyalty, but clearly he had been mistaken.

 _'One should think that with 10.000 thrones, you at least buy some degree of loyalty.'_

Still thinking about the choices he and Willis had made, Lars arrived at Uriatu's warehouse where they has set up their temporary HQ. It hadn't been much to look at. A long range voxcaster, an almost derelict cogitator and two bags with protective gear. The lack of specialised equipment had matched their cover of being two brothers, looking to make their fortune by seeking out the hulks of old ships that had gone under Phlegethon's acid oceans. Uriatu had been all too pleased to extend his hospitality when they had shown him the thrones. At the time, Lars had known it was a risk to bring in that amount of money, but he had estimated that the promise of more, would be enough to keep the smuggler in check. Had he possessed the correct information, he might have done things differently, but it was too late for that now.

Lars skulked in the shadows of a massive, copper tube that had turned green from oxidation. To keep the underhive of hive Styx somewhat endurable, the Mechanicus had installed massive pumps that would transport the caustic water of Phlegethon's ocean out of the underhive. The system wasn't completely waterproof and Lars had learned that some of the lower levels were flooded regularly.

Coming to the front of the warehouse, Lars could see that something was amiss. Instead of the regular complement of two inconspicuous guards, now two squads were standing at the front door, each and every man equipped with good quality stubbers.

 _'Clearly Uriatu takes the statements of Willis seriously enough to raise the security level. Good for Willis. Bad for you Akira.'_

Lars knew he should hurry up. He had lost too much time already. When Uriatu would hear about his missing henchman, he would know that Lars was still roaming about. Not wasting more time, the arbite turned away from the main entrance and sneaked to an adjacent building. The back door of Uriatu's warehouse would definitely be guarded too.

 _'Back to basics Akira. It seems like your visit of the Harland sewers wasn't your last one to that sort of facility.'_

Slipping in via an open window, Lars looked for a cellar in the adjacent warehouse. The remains of the utterly destroyed, flimsy wooden furniture stood testament of the fact that its inhabitants had long since found another residence and Lars thanked the Emperor for this little stroke of luck.

 _'It seems Uriatu isn't very fond of neighbours, Akira.'_

The thought stopped the regulator in his tracks. Crouching down he took a good look around. Lars could see his suspicions confirmed. In the doorway before him, a thin tripwire had been planted. Carefully Lars bypassed the line and headed for the stairwell. Peeking down, he saw that another tripwire has been set.

 _'Not a man content with half work, it seems.'_

Lars' training prepared him for this and while uttering a small word of thanks to Arthur, Lars continued his way down. Coming down the stairs, he cursed. The entire room was flooded with water. It seemed to be in this state for quite some time since the typical redbrown vegetation from Phlegethon had grown all over the surface of the pool. Getting his bearings, Lars waded in. He could feel how his clothes were soaked instantly and that the cold, mildly acidic water reached the wound in his belly.

 _'Come on, Akira, no time to waste. Suck it up.'_

If he stayed on the top of his toes, Lars managed to keep his head entirely above the waterline. Wading through the water, he felt it burning on his skin. It felt the worst at the bandage, that by now was sagging to his hips. Nevertheless, he persisted. The faith of young Willis was on the line. Coming at the western wall, Lars started looking for a place where the rockcrete had rotted. The Emperor must have been with him, because instead of a weak spot, he found an actual hole that led to Uriatu's warehouse. Lars dove under the water and silence returned to the abandoned warehouse.

Lars was staring at the room where Willis was kept prisoner. It had taken him fifteen minutes to find it. He had tried to spare his right arm as much as possible, but the air refreshening system in Uriatu's warehouse had been too cramped to do so effectively. Which meant that he was now once again suffering from the wound in his abdomen, which had continued to burn after he had left the murky water, and that his right arm was swelling up like a corpse in the water. When he had found Willis, he had spend another two minutes checking the compact laspistol he was carrying. It'd be just his luck to make a move only to discover that the machine spirit had been incapacitated. Fortunately the Saxum-pattern pistol and it's tiny powercell had proven to be reliable.

Now Lars was trying to remove the screws of the air vent. The noise he made was blotted out by the cluncky noise of a faulty fan a bit further down the system. Just when he made himself ready to discard the vent, the door of the room opened. "My good Haldis. I've thought about your liaison with Salomon." Uriatu said to Willis in a far too thriumphantic tone. The crime lord entered the room, followed by two of his goons. On his face, a self-assured grin could be seen and the bounce in his pace betrayed a new found confidence.

 _'This is bad, Akira.'_

"It seems you have been misleading me, good Haldis. Your dishonesty knows no boundaries, it seems." the man continued, his fake smile already fading. "You believe I've been shitting you?" Willis replied, desperately trying to play true to his lies, but his voice had lost its certainty and the fact that one of the goons was in fact Jon, carrying the blowtorch, didn't help the poor man to keep his nerves. "In fact... I do." replied Uriatu, right before planting his fist in Willis' stomach. "And you know how much I hate dishonesty. But clearly, the lesson didn't sink in quite well enough. So I brought Jon here to illuminate you."

Jon lit up the blowtorch and an unpleasant wooshing sound cut through Uriatu's threats. Moving closer, the man held the torch up, ready to press the flame against Willis' body. *Shhh-pang* A second later someone cried out. *Aaargh* Lars had fired at the last possible moment and had hit Jon right in the face. The hot lasfire had burned its way through the man's jaw and he dropped the blowtorch instantly. Uriatu and the other guard were caught by surprise and their first thought was that Jon had been clumsy with the welding apparatus. But when a second, red beam crossed the room and hit the second guard in the leg, they were freed from that delusion. The clattering of the vent hitting the deck wasn't even necessary to give Lars' position away. Uriatu's fingers grasped at the shock maul at his side, but Lars was quicker, managing to fire off another shot. Immediately Lars cursed, because when the crime lord looked up, there was no damage to be seen - only a scorchmark blotted his clothes - just a vile smile on his face. However, perhaps overconfident, the man made a mistake. Being the weapon of choice of the Adeptus Arbites, the shock maul had no secrets for Lars. And a good part of his training under judge Belloran had consisted of exercises with the weapon, including some defence strategies if your opponent might have managed to seize your weapon. So the arbite pushed himself from the vent shaft, crashing head first into the ground, rolling on the ground to break the fall. He immediately got up to defend himself from Uriatu.

As soon as the man lashed out with the weapon, Lars turned away from the charged tip of the stick and used his own momentum to continue the crime lord's swinging movement and land within the circle of defence of his opponent. Instead of firing the Saxum pistol once more and hope that it might penetrate Uriatu's armour this time, he used it to batter his opponent in the face. With a satisfying, cracking sound, Lars could hear how his nose broke. Blood started streaming and he knew that the man would be momentarily blinded from the pain and the blood. Which gave him just enough time to crack off another shot on the second guard, who was getting back up. Overseeing the situation, Lars saw that he had created a window of opportunity. Undoubtably, the other guards had heard the din of the combat, but they wouldn't be here for another thirty seconds. So Lars used the time to grab the keys of the manacles from Jon's body and unlocked one of Willis' chains.

"Right on time Lars. I thought I had bought it." Willis said joyfully, but Lars tempered his enthusiasm. "We're not out of this yet. We'll use him as a hostage." Willis unchained himself and his voice became more business like, seeing the situation for what it was. "Where do you wanna go. It seems like he owns this level of the city." Lars gave Uriatu another kick. "Don't worry about that. Let's just see we get our money back and escape his goons for now." Willis scrambled for the autostubber the second guard had dropped and Lars grabbed Uriatu by his collar. "Change of play, scumbag. Tell your friends to let us go. I'm sure they could get us killed, but not before you meet your end at my hands."

Uriatu started to struggle but the hot barrel of the pistol pressing in his neck, made him change his mind. "Don't shoot fethers! You'll get me killed." The first trio of guards that had arrived at the doorway and that had aimed their own guns on Willis let their aim falter. "Let's go bugger." Lars whispered in Uriatu's ear, and then adressed Uriatu's thugs with his most threatening voice, "And don't even think of following us, fraggers, or your boss has _börght_ it!" Lars pushed his knee in Uriatu's back and beckoned Willis to move on. His partner moved through the door, onwards to the backdoor of the warehouse. Before long, they were standing in the alleyway behind the building and started running.

"Now where to, boss? That was our only base of operations on this frakking planet." Willis asked Lars. Lars looked a bit annoyed at that. "I've made some friends in the meanwhile, Walther. At least I hope I did."


	14. Chapter 14: Uriatu spills the goods

_+++5.197.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx - level Omega-54+++_

"So fether, what made you think you could drop in on me like that?" From the tone of his voice, the Doc wasn't pleased to see Lars again. Not at all. And it didn't help that Uriatu was giving his own opinion on the matter. "Yeah stupid. You think my boys won't find you here?" With a dismissive gesture, Lars turned to the crime lord. "Shut it fragger. Willis, gag him again will you?" Something Willis had been aching to do from the moment they had pulled the piece of dirty cloth out of the detainee's mouth. "Right gov." he said with a smile.

As Willis bashed in a few teeth while propping the same rags back in Uriatu's mouth, Lars turned to the Doc who was standing before his house, lasgun at the ready. "Now look here Patrice. The Emperor..." The Doc stopped the arbite right there in his tracks. "The Emperor protects. I don't deny it son, but I always think that we should be good souls and give him the least amount of trouble to handle. It's a big universe and I'm sure He's got his hands full." The gagged crime lord clearly wanted to cut in, but thanks to the, now bloody, rag in his mouth, he only managed some muffled noises. Lars turned his attention from the Doc to the man on his knees. "Shut it Uriatu, or Willis can get at it again... Patrice. We really need your help and I don't see anyone else here that will do it for you." Patrice didn't seem convinced. Leaning back against the door frame as if he wanted to put as much distance between himself and Uriatu, he replied. "Just lay low. There are plenty of good hiding spots, especially further down."

 _'Time to bluff him Akira. But don't alienate him.'_

Lars took two steps closer and lowered his voice to a whisper, making sure Uriatu wouldn't be able to overhear him. "What do you think will happen if we don't show up back at command? You think the judge will think 'Oh yeah, those enforcers I sent down didn't come back. Ah not to worry, I'm sure they dealt with their business and went on a holiday, drinking amasec-toniks at the beach'? Think again Patrice! Your friendly neighbourhood will be ploughed over by local lawmen. I'm sure some of your more shady, but friendly, neighbours won't like that one bit and start a riot. At that point, you can be sure that they will double their efforts and quadruple the collateral, if you know what I mean..." Seeing a worried frown on Patrice's face, Lars knew he had won. "Just let us in Patrice. We'll be out of your hair, long before you get into trouble. You have my word." Lars extended his left hand. His right arm was still too painful to use. The wild trip down the underhive hadn't helped either. His arm had swollen to twice its original size. The tip of the lasgun dropped to the floor and Patrice sighed. He grabbed Lars' hand and said: "Alright. Let's just see what your word is worth... Fether."

Inside, Lars pointed at the table. "Put him on it Willis. It's time he talked a bit more." Turning to the gagged Uriatu, he continued. "But don't think you can start shouting and cursing. I'm gonna ask you some questions and you'll answer them nicely." Lars looked around the room. "I don't seem to have a spare blowtorch, but you can be sure that we can think of something to replace that piece of equipment." When he locked eyes with Uriatu, Lars knew that he hadn't been convincing enough. Although the man was bleeding from his mouth and had suffered from the trip down - neither Willis or Lars had taken much care while pushing the man around - he still thought he had a chance.

 _'That won't do Akira.'_

Lars didn't have the time to play mindgames with the man. Although there was no relation between Lars and Patrice, he was sure that Uriatu's men would hear before long of their hiding place. A man like Uriatu would have an extensive network of informants in the area.

 _'It'll be the hard way, Akira.'_

Lars suspicion was confirmed almost instantly. The moment Willis removed the improvised gag, Uriatu started shouting and cursing. "Who do you think you are. Whatever you thought, it d0oesn't matter. You're a living corpse, your mother is a living corpse, your father is a living corpse. EVERYONE you know is a living..." *Shhh-pang* *Aaaargh!* Lars knew what to expect and had taken his compact Saxum-laspistol and shot right through Uriatu's right hand. With the hot barrel, he scorched the wound so the bleeding would be reduced to a minimum. "What did I tell you, fragger?" But Uriatu seemed to be preoccupied with the wound in his hand. "You shot me, you shot me, you bastard, you..." *Shhh-pang* *Huuuuuaaargh!* Lars second shot went straight through the right knee of the man coiling on the table. "You don't learn quickly, do you?"

Although Uriatu was panting heavily, he shut his mouth. Lars looked him in the eyes. The feeling of control and superiority had left the man. "Give me some answers, fragger. Where is the _Menapi Volantis_?" With his attitude gone, Uriatu just answered the question. "It's out at sea." Lars frowned. "How do we get there?" With fear in his eyes, Uriatu answered this one as well, but Lars could tell in advance that he wouldn't like the answer. "You don't." Lars raised the pistol once more, moving it to Uriatu's face. "You don't understand. You don't understand! It's impossible to get there." Uriatu screamed out, panicking. "Then how did the contents of the armoury got out of there?" Lars insisted. Now that he had Uriatu where he wanted him to be, he wouldn't let go. "It wasn't me. I wish it had been me, but it wasn't me." The men yelled, both eyes fixed on the laspistol still aimed at his face. "I know it wasn't you, fragger. That's why I came to you in the first place. But you do know where it is. Speak up!" A mean smile played at the corners of Lars' mouth. Willis pressed down on the man's shoulders, giving the man a clear sign that he wasn't going anywhere. "I can't get you there. Besides, even if you get there, you'll be killed." An evasive answer, Lars judged, but still something to work with. He lowered the pistol and now casually aimed it at the man's stomach. "How so?" Uriatu jumped at the opening. "They have a large crew, and they are well organised, well armed too!" Lars smiled. It seemed that even though they made a mess of things, this whole charade with Uriatu would get him what he wanted. "So who is running it, if it isn't you?" Lars asked, hoping that the other man would give him the correct answer. "It's Tanguy. Tanguy Rickerd."

 _'Good. He's telling you the truth. Now squeeze him some more.'_

Lars had known that Rickerd was the brain behind the organisation, but he had also known that Rickerd had better friends in higher places than, the presumably small time player, Uriatu. Their cover would never have held when confronted with Rickerd's network. So they had needed another way to infiltrate. Lars sat down and Uriatu had to turn his head to look at him. "Now, tell me how I get there." A flicker of panick returned into the man's eyes. "I told you. It's impossible." Lars started fiddling with the laspistol, showing off to get the message through. "Last time I heard, you told me you could kill my old man and he's two subsectors away. Don't tell me you can't get me on the _Menapi_." Uriatu sighed "... There might be a way." "That's more like it." Uriatu turned away, perhaps another attempt to lie, but Lars let the man be. "It's very dangerous, and when you get there, you'll be killed." Now Lars had to laugh. "You've made the mistake before to think you knew what could get me killed. Tell me more of your solution." The crime lord's body relaxed, a sign Lars interpreted as a surrender. "There is an old man, Noe, who owns a submersible. He might get you where you want to go." Lars lowered his voice now to a normal level. It seemed the interrogation was coming to an end. "Where can I find him?" Uriatu's defeated look, told Lars that he didn't have to question his next answer. "He's somewhere on this level, but I don't know exactly where."

Lars exchanged a look with the doc. The white bearded man nodded. "He hangs around. Didn't know about his sub though." Lars turned back to the bleeding man on the table who adressed him. "I've helped you. Shouldn't you patch me up? I don't want to bleed out." Lars nodded affirmatively. There was no reason to threaten the man anymore. "Just a few more questions. Why did you betray us?" The other man looked a bit incredulous at the regulator. "Fether! What do you expect? Walking in with 10.000 thrones and thinking you can walk away." Lars shook his head, disbelief on his face. "There was more money where that came from." But a harsh expression on Uriatu's face told him everything he needed to know. "Take what you can get. That's the law around here. Besides, we still had your boy over there to get the rest of the money... Who are you anyway?"

Lars ignored the question and looked at Willis. The man looked back at him, worried. "Anything you want to ask this fragger?" Willis shook his head dismissively. "No gov. We've got what we need... Are you feeling alright?" Lars frowned, not understanding the man's concern. "My arm hurts like hell, but I'll survive. Let's finish this." Turning back to Uriatu, he looked the man in the eyes. He saw a new found hope in the man's face. "I've told you what you needed to know. Now, if you let me go, I promise I will leave you alone. I'm pretty sure Rickerd will take care of you anyway..." Lars gave him a solemn look. "You asked us who I was earlier." Suddenly it seemed to dawn on the other man. He interrupted the regulator. "Yeah, but don't tell me. I don't need to know. Just let me go. I promise..." But there was no mercy, nor sympathy in his voice now. "My name is Lars Akira... Regulator Lars Akira, in service to judge Arthur Belloran of the Adeptus Arbites." Lars saw the realization sink in with Uriatu. The man remained quiet for some time. "Fether." he whispered, "Fether, fether, fether." Lars barely noticed it. "With the power of the Emperor invested in me, I hereby sentence you, Mokan Uriatu, for threatening an Imperial officer, to death. Commenda anima vestra ad Imperatorem." Lars didn't want to extend the man's struggle and gave him a quick death with a shot in the head.

"I'm sorry for the mess, doc. Willis, let's make sure Patrice doesn't suffer from any fall out. Drag the body outside and leave him somewhere in the open. I'm sure this will start a fight within the rank and file of his little empire to see who becomes the new king. That should buy us enough time to fulfill our mission." Lars gave Patrice an apologizing look. They both knew that Patrice could still suffer from some fallout. Willis interrupted his thoughts. "I'm sure Lars, but..." Tired and a bit annoyed, Lars looked at his second. "What is it?" This time Willis' worries were very clear to see. "Gov, are you really feeling alright?" A bit angry, Lars replied. "Yes, why do you keep asking?" Willis handed him a dirty mirror. "Well, look at yourself." Lars looked at his face, only now seeing that one of his eyebrows was twitching incontrolably.

* * *

 _+++5.199.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hulduefni Sea - Submarine "Affray"+++_

Lars looked at his hands. They weren't shaking. When he looked at his fingers though, he thought he could see a slight tremor.

 _'You're going mad Akira. Let it go. The cure should take care of the worst of it. And you still have three doses left. It should be enough.'_

His left hand went to his combat jacket, tapping the three glass vials in his pocket. Patrice had given him everything he could spare. Each of the vials contained a small amount of a ghastly tasting liquid; _Lebertran_ the doc had called it. As it couldn't be produced on Phlegethon, it was incredibly hard to come by, even though it was a cure for most of the common diseases that struck hive Styx. Lars hadn't asked Patrice how he came by such an amount of the substance and the man hadn't entered into the details either.

 _'Everyone has secrets, Akira. Everyone has something he isn't proud of.'_

He could hear the doc's voice echoing in his head. "This isn't a cure fether. It will only supress the symptoms. You need to get treatment now. _Morbille musculu_ isn't something to be trifled with. It'll damage your muscle tissue and don't think you'll be able to grow it back with simple exercise. It permanently damages the nerves that control it, before attacking the muscles itself. So even if you have some pal that can set you up with some vatgrown muscles, it wouldn't be any good. Oh, and before you think the fething cogboys can set you up with some technical replacement _truque_ , you better remember that this disease attacks your entire system at once. If your good judge would even spare the money for a fething imbecile like you, they'd had to rebuild you from scratch. You'd be more machine than man. Just like they want for themselves. So don't get your hopes up. Get back to your men and find a proper doctor... You shouldn't have gone through that cellar. That water must have been contaminated. Fether. I told you to keep your wound clean!"

Afterwards, when Lars had started discussing their plan of operations with Willis, Patrice had looked at the both of them with rising amazement. He had yelled that Lars was a pig-headed fether that didn't even deserve his last doses of Lebertran. In the end, Lars had told him the mission objective. That had shut him up quickly.

 _'Of course he understood then, Akira. Having been on a battlefield himself, Patrice must have seen the effects, although only at a small scale.'_

The discussion with Willis had been simple. Get aboard of the _Menapi_ , take stock of the situation. Terminate the opposition and get the coordinates of the ship to the closest Mechanicus shrine to start up a salvage operation. That's why they had urged Patrice to bring them as fast as he could to Noe.

If Lars had thought that the doc was a bit of a misfit in the bowels of hive Styx, he was in for an even bigger surprise with Noe. The man clearly wasn't a member of the Mechanicus, but shared their strange dream to come as close to the machine as possible. Only, the underhive wasn't the best of places to fulfill that dream. Nevertheless, Noe had tried to do so all the same. Instead of cogitator cores to replace parts of his brain, he lumbered around - clearly improvised bionics are a tad less compact than the official Mechanicus variety - with an actual cogitator strapped to his back with leather straps. He had connected the thing with crudely implanted power cables. He had also replaced his right arm with an industrial type power claw which gave Willis the creeps as it sometimes opened and closed spasticly without Noe controlling it. His legs showed signs of a botched attempt to replace them with some sort of mechanical propulsion system. The failure had caused Noe to stumble about his workshop instead of walking. The man's mind and sense of adventure hadn't suffered from it though and after Patrice had introduced them and Lars had explained where they needed to go, the man had smiled broadly and yelled that it would be the perfect adventure to test out his latest modifications to the _Affray_.

When Noe had shown the sigar-shaped submersible it hadn't looked like much. Once in the water and on it's way, Lars had understood that the name was well chosen. And now here he was, doped with _Lebertran_ , conscious of the fact that his body was under attack from some backwater disease while he stood for perhaps his most important mission yet. In his mind Lars replayed the mission briefing Belloran had given.


	15. Chapter 15: Going out to sea

_+++6.838.985.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++The Unwanting Revenge - Belloran's quarters+++_

Lars sat once more in judge Belloran's office. The briefing was supposed to be given right after the debriefing of his last mission, but for reasons unknown to Lars, Arthur had stopped Frank Horrigan after just two minutes into the briefing - naturally, it had been Frank that was giving the briefing. Lars hadn't expected anything else anymore. Belloran had been playing with the model of a space ship when suddenly he had jumped up, thrown the model at Lars and yelled: "Frank, chap, we've forgotten something essential! Lars, old chap, be so good to excuse us. We'll see you tomorrow. Same time, same place."

Clearly Frank hadn't known what the essential business might have been, because Lars could see, actually for the first time, a look of complete bafflement on his face. Normally it was Horrigan who took care of Belloran's schedule. To see things turned upside down, had been quite the surprise for him. The fact that the judge had stormed off, clearly hadn't surprised him though, nor did the fact that in his haste to leave the room, Belloran had knocked over two stacks of books and nearly cut down the chandelier above his desk as he, again as usual, had been swinging his power sword from left to right as he left the room. However, the clerk mustn't have completely recovered from the surprise as he had left the briefing notes on the recaf table.

Before returning to the judge's quarters aboard _The Unwanting Revenge_ the next day, Lars had gone through the briefing notes and studied the model of what appeared to be the _Menapi Volantis_. Lars had never heard of any kind of 'Menapi' and had decided that it was a silly name. The vessel itself could hardly be called silly though. The _Menapi_ was a sturdy vessel with a tonnage of 30 megaton, designed to supply the Navy with ammunition and provisions. It had some defensive capabilities, but had to rely mostly on an escort to get its cargo to its destination. However, the ship had gone missing recently.

With the disappearance of the ship, its cargo had disappeared too. And that's why judge Belloran was brought in. The ship had been last seen in the Phlegethon system, but since it's last contact with one of the smaller frigates of the Imperial Navy, no one had heard from it. Until a report had managed to land on Belloran's desk, written by a brigadier of the enforcers of hive Styx, which mentioned a flood of small arms of naval signature. Now it would be Lars' mission to track down the ship and secure its payload.

With a bang, the hatch of Belloran's quarters swung against the wall. Enthusiastically, Arthur Belloran marched in, followed by Frank Horrigan, who was trying to keep a stack of far too many dataslates level. Lars didn't really understand why Horrigan bothered anyway. Everything that even remotely smelled like something the Administratum had produced, would meet its end in Belloran's quarters.

"Ah Lars! Glad to see you made it." the judge greeted him. Lars smiled. The judge's enthusiasm was quite contagious. "Glad to see you made it too, Arthur. Frank." Lars gave an amicable nod and stood up to help the man with unloading the stack of slates. However, from the desk they could hear the sound of papers falling to the floor.

"Blast! ... Frank, I managed to tip over this mountain of paperwork. Would you be so good to...?" To his credit, there still were some signs of guilt showing on Belloran's face. Although Horrigan conjured an annoyed look on his face, Lars could see that there was a fatherly forgiveness in the clerk's eyes. "Of course, your honor. Why don't you give the briefing you were supposed to give yesterday." The blush from Arthur's cheeks disappeared and he put up his winning smile once more. "Ah, indeed Frank. I'm terribly sorry to have kept you waiting Lars, old chap. I just remembered yesterday that I had a bet to win. Since Frank frowns on this kind of friendly competition among the ranks, he had of course ignored my request to fit it in my schedule. But all is well now." Lars could have known that it would have been some sort of futile distraction and at the back of his head a little voice whispered something about duty, but he had no business lecturing the judge, so instead he tried to steer the conversation to the proper business. "I've worked my way throught the dossier of the _Menapi Volantis_."

The judge sat down behind his desk, laying his power sword in easy reach on it. "I see. Nasty piece of business that. Very nasty indeed." The judge sobered up and it seemed that Lars had succeeded in bringing the man on topic. To avoid losing momentum, he immediately followed up with a question. "Yes, but since the weapons of the _Menapi_ showed up in hive Styx, surely the local Mechanicus must be able to track it down. I'm not really sure why they need the Arbites to step in." The judge nodded thoughtfully and glanced at Frank. "That is exaclty the issue at hand here. The local machineheads are far too busy, so they say, to start a hunting party. Frankly, I think those cogheads don't know where to start looking. However, you'll find that the local populace is far more innovative to find something valuable than middle-hive, middle-cadre adepts. So I need you to start looking among the local populace." Lars frowned. "I see, but shouldn't this be a case for the local enforcers?"

Belloran looked at Frank with a triumphant look. "You see? You see? I'm not the only one who would dismiss this idiotic case at first hand?" Frank sighed, although it was clear that he had yielded long ago. "I see your honor... Lars, what the briefing document didn't mention, because it is a military secret, was that the payload of the _Menapi_ didn't solely consist of conventional ammunition. 15 mark-IV Virus bombs were aboard of that ship." Lars first looked incomprehensively at Horrigan, then at Belloran. The normal care-free attitude of the judge had disappeared. "Clearly, you haven't heard of this type of weapon. It is serious business, my friend. It is so serious that the chroniclers aren't allowed to use it as promotional material, even though it works wonders with the enemy. These weapons are used as a last resort. Even in it's tactical form, the effects are devastating. Explain it Frank." Frank started rummaging through the pile of dataslates on Belloran's desk, while the judge walked over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out three glasses. Frank started his somewhat technical explanation, which became a lot clearer when he showed a pictfeed of a live deployment of the weapon. At that point, Lars could use the drink Belloran offered him.

"Throne on Terra. Arthur, that is... monstrous." The blood had left Lars' face and not even a swig of amasec got the colour back. "I know Lars, I know. It is a weapon we among the Adeptus Arbites loath with a great passion, because it kills all: friend or foe, asset and risk. It should only be used on the fringes of a sector, where Xenos must be met head on. Imagine what something like that would do to a hive. We must find those weapons and secure them." The judge leaned back in his seat, not a trace to be seen of his joking nature. Frank picked up the thread. "I've arranged a low profile transport to hive Styx. As you have seen in the dossier, you shouldn't rely on the local authorities. This mission is too important to let it fail due to incompetence or a corrupt son of a bitch." Belloran took a sip of his amasec and scraped his throat. "Oh, and Lars. We've looked at the file of Walther Willis. If you want him, he's yours. Just take care of the bugger. Frank won't have the time to coach him himself, so you'll have to do that for now, ok?" Lars nodded. He was pretty sure Willis would be able to fend for himself.

The judge rose from his chair, putting his glass besides his sword, before making the sign of the Aquila. "Then I wish you all the luck of the Emperor, old chap. Find the ship, secure the cargo and report back as soon as you can. I'm gonna need you afterwards." And with those words, Lars had left the judge's quarters, feeling a heavy burden on his shoulders.

* * *

 _+++5.198.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hulduefni Sea - Submarine "Affray"+++_

"Gentleman, it seems my auspex has picked up on something. Might be your treasure trove."

Noe's snickering ended Lars' daydreaming. He checked his chrono. Eight hours they had been in this contraption. Lars could see how little pools of the caustic water had formed under the metal grates that formed the floor of the sub. The fact that the engine of the Affray pinched out a whining noise that raised and lowered quite erraticly, didn't help to build confidence in the little vessel either.

Moving to the front of the vessel, Lars found Noe at the controls. Lars thought it quite confusing that the man had to go on his sensor array to observe his surroundings. There was not a single glass port hole and the 'bridge' of the _Affray_ didn't sport any windows either.

"Look here, gentlemen. This is probably what you are looking for." Noe was pointing at a large blob on one of his circular green screens. Lars didn't even bother to try to interpret the picture. It might just as well have been a strain of binary. "So what do you want to do now, gentlemen?" Lars put his hand on Noe's shoulder and pointed at the blob. "Get us closer, if possible unnoticed. We need to get aboard of the thing." "You sure know how to make it exciting mister." giggled Noe. He pressed some more buttons, causing a pumping noise from somewhere in the back which in turn caused a sharp turn towards the bottom of the ocean. "Hold on to your knickers!" Noe yelled, rather late. Behind him, Lars could hear Willis curse. Willis had shared Lars' lack of confidence in the apparatus. This feeling wasn't remedied, when they had spend some time with Noe. The man snickered and giggled almost constantly and his steering skills had proven to be somewhat wild to say the least.

"You know, I won't be able to dock my baby to your ship, mister. You'll have to find a way in yourself." Lars had anticipated this and had sent Willis to retrieve their bags at Uriatu's warehouse. As Lars had expected, Willis had found the bags, and a scene that was more appropriate for an abatoir. Clearly, the turf war had begun and part of it had taken place at Uriatu's home base. The initial fighting was over when Willis had arrived though, so he had had no problems to retrieve their equipment.

"Time to suit up then." Lars said, trying to keep the dread out of his voice, but there was no fooling Willis. "I thought you might say that Lars. Fragger." Lars gave the other arbite a grim smile, but tried to keep the mood light. "Show some respect for your superior Willis... It's not like I am looking forward to do this. Just remember your void training. It should be about the same. Only a lot darker and a lot heavier. Luckily Horrigan had these void suits adapted for extreme high pressure." Willis made a dismissive gesture some might have found offending. "Yeah, but he never tested it himself, did he?" Lars only shook his head. "No, but he assured us that it should work. Have some trust in your comrades, Willis."

Lars started putting on the suit. It was heavily reinforced with super dense metal rods and like a power armour, it was equipped with heavy duty servos. The regular void helmet had been replaced by a uniquely cast headpiece, with a small armourcrys visor at least two inch thick. It definitely distorted his vision, but Lars hoped that Noe would be able to drop them off close to one of the _Menapi_ 's airlocks. When he came to the seal of his collar, he couldn't close it. His hand was shaking too much.

"I think it's time for another dose of the stuff, gov." Willis said, no longer jeering. "I'm afraid so. In the meanwhile, continue to close off the seals of my suit Willis. And don't look like a fragging undertaker. I'm not death yet." The other man answered with a weak smile. "Sure gov." Willis' answer betrayed that he was very worried about Lars. In truth, Lars tried to keep his mind of his own predicament. He had decided that neither yammering nor brooding would be helpful. Aborting the mission at this point had been an equally stupid idea. Someone as well connected as Rickerd would definitely pick up on the power vacuum Uriatu's death had created. It would definitely change his routine. And if they hoped to have any chance at succeeding, they needed Rickerd's crew to be in routine mode.

In the meanwhile the Lebertran had kicked in and Lars could feel how it calmed him down.

 _'Two doses left. You're at the ship. You might pull it off Akira.'_

At that point the men in the _Affray_ felt a little bump and a metallic clank told them that they had reached the hull of the _Menapi_.

"Time to leave, gentlemen. I hope you have enjoyed the ride. Hihihi." Their captain seemed genuinely entertained. "Thanks Noe. It has been a real pleasure." Willis replied sarcasticly. "Just keep your vox channel open. We don't want to be knocking on your door until you realize that you should let us in." Lars added. Noe fiddled with his improvised bionic ear. "Sure! Get ready!" At that point, they could hear another loud clunk, as the door to the bridge closed shut. Overhead, they could see how the small, dripping streamlets, changed into rushing rivers that filled the cabin in no time. Seconds later, Noe's voice came over the vox. "Ok gentlemen. You're all set. You can open the top hatch and start your mission. May the Emperor protect!" "And you, Noe, and you." Lars replied.


	16. Chapter 16: Boarding the Menapi

_+++5.199.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segementus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Menapi Volantis - Enginarium+++_

"So what did you find Willis?" Lars asked, crouched behind a console of the _Menapi_ 's Enginarium. "They seem to have taken control of the area around the armoury. About thirty men, decently armed and quite alert. You?" Willis whispered, looking expectingly at his chief. "Same story at the bridge." Lars said shrugging, "They have set up a perimeter at about 500 meters of the entrance. It goes two decks up. The guards at the outer fringe are alert, but closer to the bridge, it seems like routine has set in. Smoking lho-sticks, small talk, ... Not the pinacle of vigilance it seems." Willis sighed. "So what now gov?" "Any way to get in the armoury itself, Willis?" Lars asked but without much hope. "Didn't see a way in, gov. They've got the place locked down good." Willis confirmed his supsicions. "Right. Then let's see if we can get a better view from here."

Lars started fiddling with the controls of the internal communication system. Most of the machine spirits of the Menapi were down, but it seemed that the bare essentials, such as life support, were still largely operational. "You've got any idea of what made this happen? Starships don't fall out of the sky usually." Willis asked, looking around cautiously. Their search of the cavernous room had shown no indication of any human presence here for months, but it still wouldn't hurt to be careful. "You're right Willis. The only thing I can think of is an inside job. Parts of the crew must have been in on it. But I can hardly imagine that the high command of the vessel was involved. Although the lack of damage... I don't know. I'm no sailor." It pleased Lars to hear Willis ask another question. An inquisitive mind wasn't normally considered a good thing in the Imperium, but it was an essential feature for any member of the Adeptus Arbites. "But what has happened to the crew that didn't support the mutiny?" "That's something to find out, but once you manage to take over the bridge or the enginarium, it isn't all that hard to take them out of the loop. It's like we did with Musondo. Shut off life support or even vent an entire deck. I wouldn't be too surprised if we would find a few thousand corpses in the atmosphere. Too bad we don't have the means to check it."

Lars concentrated on the cogitator, whispering the sacred words to start up the datalooms. Steams of binary passed by and Lars had trouble keeping the machine spirit in check. However, with a last effort, he managed to access the pictstreams aboard the ship. With a heavy bronze leaver he cycled through the different feeds. There wasn't much choice as the number of pictcorders was limited. The Menapi wasn't one of the old battlecruisers that had served the Imperium for millennia. Nor had it been crafted under supervision of the legendary magi of old. So it lacked many of the features of these older vessels. However, at the end of the array, two feeds of the armoury could be found.

"The Emperor is with us Lars. Aren't those the Virus bombs?" Willis pointed at some vague shapes on the grainy green screen. "They certainly appear to be so." Lars confirmed. Both of the arbites peered intently at the grainy image on the pictscreen. Willis was the first to speak. "It looks like it isn't as well defended as we feared. I only count ten guards." Willis glanced at Lars who was still staring intensely at the screen. Finally, his chief and friend spoke up. "You might be right, Willis. What worries me more is that I only count fourteen bombs." "Frak!" "Frak indeed. Now it might be the last one isn't visible on the screen, or that it is in a different loading bay, but it might also mean..." "Frak!" "We can't waste any time Willis. We need to go check in the armoury itself." Lars decided to Willis' dismay. "But how? Are you saying we sneak in quietly and ambush the bastards?" Lars shook his head slowly. "I'm afraid that even with the element of surprise, they might overwhelm us... No, I think a distraction might prove to be a better solution. Let me see if we can set something up."

Lars ordered the machine spirit to leave the datalooms with the pictfeeds and tried to get it to access the vox channels. After having performed the necessary rituals, specked with curses - the _Menapi_ 's machine spirit and its siblings were hardly in a cooperative mood after months below the surface of an acid ocean - Lars finally managed to get an overview of the active channels.

"Get ready Willis. As soon as we launch this, they'll know something is up. If we get separated, we meet at the passenger holds on the starboard. Around... deck 36." Willis immediately understood Lars' intention, but checked anyway. "To use the escape pods if things go wrong." Lars nodded. "Yes. If the pods haven't been disabled or fired already. I'll block their communications. I'll give them a message that the bridge is under attack. That might lead some away." Willis' face became dead serious. "The Emperor provides."

Lars flicked an entire array, at least 50 switches, and saw how the power of the vox casters got disabled. Then, he flicked one back. With a deep breath, he grabbed the solid headset that lay next to the cogitator. "We have *scrchch* contact at the bridge. *scrchch* over here, now fethers!" Lars started, using the little slang of Phlegethon he already picked up on and doing his best to give a convincing show of a failing vox connection. His efforts didn't prove unsuccesful as someone at the other side answered. "This is Carran. What are you talking about? Repeat bridge, repeat!" Lars smiled "*scrchch* get over here, fether. We *scrchch* backup! *scrchch*" Lars flicked the switch again and threw down the heavy casque. "Let's move Willis."

But his partner had already understood what was expected and was storming off to the exit of the enginarium. Lars took out the Saxum-pattern laspistol again. It wasn't much to look at, but hopefully he would lay his hands on something better soon. The report of the local enforcer had spoken of naval combat shotguns that had been moved, which would be a weapon Lars was far more familiar with than the puny pistol. Without regard for stealth, the two arbites ran through the abandoned hallways in the direction of the armoury. Lars didn't believe that all the guards would have left to support the bridge, but he hoped that the opposition would be manageable.

Coming at the section where the armoury would begin, Willis stopped. Lars was panting heavily and once again Willis gave him a worried look. "Frak it... Willis... We... have no... time to... lose." Lars said between rasped breathing. To convince the man - and himself - Lars went around the corner and stormed towards the vanguard of the smugglers. The momentary surprise faded away far too quickly and Lars found himself dodging two buckshots. One missed completely, the other hit him in the arm, but his armour took the brunt of it. He charged on. As soon as he had a good chance of hitting something, he started firing the laspistol. The little power cell inside would be depleted pretty soon, but Lars hoped that by then, he would have something else at his disposal.

From behind him he heard the familiar cracking sound of superheated air as Willis joined the firefight. Jumping on the improvised barricade the enemy had thrown up before the doors of the armoury, Lars rammed his left shoulder in the stomach of one of the gangers. Both men fell to the floor and from the edge of his sight, Lars could see that the other one aimed at the two men at his feet. Lars didn't have time to worry about it and concentrated on his victim. The other man had dropped his shotgun and tried to wrap his arms around the arbite, while Lars tried to get the laspistol in a good position to shoot the man. Suddenly, Lars felt a heavy weight on his back which hindered the other ganger even more as the weight on his chest doubled. The man's grip loosened suddenly and Lars saw Willis' boots next to him and suddenly the weight on his back was gone.

"Come on gov. Let me lead the next one." Breathing heavily, Lars accepted Willis' outstretched hand and got to his feet. His partner didn't stand around but stormed off himself towards the large cargo door of the armoury. Jamming a multikey in the panel next to it, he managed to get the door open rather quickly. In the meanwhile Lars had put his laspistol away and switched it for one of the shotguns. As soon as the doors slid open, Lars took the lead again and immediately looked for a target. Inside, he found that the pictfeed had been deceptive. The room was easily five times bigger than he had imagined. Luckily, the number of guards wasn't multiplied by five too. He could see that at the other side of the room, the doors were standing open and he presumed that at least part of the detail had left. However, five goons still remained in the room and the opening of the door had given away the arbites' position.

"Take cover!" Lars yelled as he tried to give some form of covering fire for his partner. A few of the thugs ducked, but one man remained upright, aiming some kind of rifle at Lars. Luckily, what the man could spare in courage, he didn't have in terms of accuracy and his first shot went wide. Not wanting to tempt fate even further, Lars launched himself towards a number of wooden crates. In the meanwhile, several fiery red las beams went over his head. Willis' barrage was rewarded with a scream of pain from further down the hall. However, Lars could feel how his position was peppered with fire. Only now taking the time to inspect his position, he could see that it wouldn't be easy to overcome the opposition. It was also at that time he learned that the crates he was hiding behind, were filled to the brim with grenades.

"We're not getting through. They are trying to flank you from the right!" Willis screamed. At that moment, Lars took a gamble. "Cover me!" Willis answered and with renewed vigour pushed the power cell of his las pistol to the limit. "I'm almost out!" A last hail of lasbolts passed over Lars' head. Counting the shots, Lars got up after the fourth - they had trained combat situations extensively on the way here - and without getting shot at by the enemy, he grabbled with both his hands to get a maximum of grenades. He slumped down again, hurting his right arm in the process, but ignored the rattling of buckshot against the chest. He just hoped that the rifleman would focus on shooting Willis. One well placed shot would start an explosive chain reaction which he didn't want to witness from this close. He prepped two grenades and threw them both in the general direction of their assailants. Although he wasn't lucky enough to get one of the remaining thugs, the fact that they had to scramble for new cover, gave Willis the opportunity to pick one of the gangers off. Seeing how he still had three grenades at his disposal, Lars prepped another one and risked a peek to see where the defenders were. Seeing two of them huddled together behind another set of crates, he threw the grenade. This time his attack struck true and an instant later, nothing remained of the two but a red mist. At that point, Willis screamed that he was completely out.

With only two grenades left and a quick prayer to the Emperor, Lars got up and scanned his surroundings. He saw the last ganger against the right wall and threw his grenade. However, the grenade bounced of the wall and Lars could see how a grin started to form on the enemy's face when he raised his rifle to kill off the arbite that had left his cover. At that point the grenade exploded and although the shrapnel didn't hit the ganger, it did destroy the attachment of a gutter on the ceiling. As the man aimed down the sight, he was hit with great force by the pipes and gutter coming down. Not something he would recover from.

"Block the door Willis!" Lars ordered. There was no time to waste. Soon the other guards would reach the bridge, or worse, the officer at the bridge would send a few of his men to see what was going on now the vox no longer functioned. Willis picked up a gun and ran to the doors, ramming his multikey once more into the control panel. As the doors slid shut, he ran back to Lars, who was holding his right arm. He'd overburdened it again in his little melee with the smuggler at the barricade and he could feel a throbbing pain thoughout the entire limb.

"What now gov? What's the plan?" Willis asked as he ran back from the door. "The plan, Willis, is to deny the enemy the contents this room and get back-up. If we want any chance to make this work, we need to secure a trustworthy force of arms. As we know, Rickerd has multiple connections with the nobles of hive Styx. I think it would be best if we bet on the enforcer officer that filed the report. If he's still alive of course. We can only hope he has the means to send reinforcements to this somewhat inaccessible location." Willis frowned. "Right gov. But how are we going to deny the enemy access here?" Lars' face had a stern expression on it, showing a tough resolve. "We'll shut the doors and boobytrap them. The Emperor has provided us with virtually unlimited ammunition, so it should be possible to keep them at bay for quite some time. However, we mustn't waste any more of that. You need to get to the sub and get Noe to bring you up." Willis scowled. "Hold on gov. I'm not leaving you here. If anyone..." But Lars was determined and had made up his mind. "Stop it Willis. We don't have time for that crap. Holding this position could become a problem if the other one doesn't return soon." "But gov, you..." Willis tried one last time. Lars knew he wanted to point out Lars' condition. Lars held up his hands. "I'm well aware that it could be a suicide mission for me, Willis. Now get out of here. That is an order!" Willis stood baffled for a second before he could reply. "... It has been an honour, sir." Now Lars looked irritated. "Just get back here as soon as you can frakker, I might still make it if you stopped talking and got on with it."

Willis gave a curt salute and turned on his heels, running away at full speed towards the airlock they had used to infiltrate the _Menapi_. Lars didn't stay put himself either. Using Willis' multikey, Lars started to work on the doors. He wouldn't have long, so his first lock was a simple override of the machinespirit. He ran across the room to do the same thing at the other end. He thought he could hear the sound of footsteps already and sure enough, just when he had managed to lock the second door, the banging started at the first one, followed by muffled cursing. As Lars crossed the room again, he stopped in the middle, aiming at the two pictcorders hanging from the ceiling. A few seconds later, the pict capters were two small smoking husks.

 _'No information about my strength and numbers, frakkers.'_

Lars ran on and started working again on the keypad next to the door. It seemed like he was in luck. The frakkers didn't have a techpriest at their disposal. Not yet at least. He could see a few crude attempts at breaking his little deadlock, but nothing to worry him, yet.

 _'Watch this frakkers. Lars Akira isn't a frakking noob when it comes to this. Thanks Arthur.'_

Lars smiled as he added a few levels of code on the lock. It wouldn't stop a seasoned cracker, and it wouldn't do much good if they could bring in a regular techpriest, but anyone else would have quite some trouble disabling the codes he had added. Paradoxically, these things were easy to put in place, but a real bitch to break up afterwards. Lars himself wouldn't be able to undo such a thing if he found himself at the other side of the door. Quickly he left for the other door to repeat the process. There wasn't any noise to be heard here yet, but the frakkers wouldn't be so dumb not to try.

Lars stepped back to survey the situation. As far as he could see, he needed to fortify his position quite some more. There were no possibilities to set up a last defense inside this room. He needed to keep them out as long as possible because once they were in, it would be game over. Lars checked his chrono. Only thirty minutes had passed since Willis had left. He needed to hold this position for the best part of a day. It would take Willis at least eight hours to get back to hive Styx - he must have boarded the _Affray_ by now - and then he would need to secure a trustworthy source of help. If the enforcers weren't to be trusted, Lars could make a cross over this venture. Even someone as good as Willis wouldn't be able to gather enough decent intelligence quickly enough. Lars assumed that if the enforcers would be trustworthy, they would have better material to get to the final resting place of the _Menapi_ than Noe's ragged little submersible. That should shave some time of the ETA.

At least, that was what he hoped. Lars felt at this combat vest: only two vials of the drug left. It would be a close call. Before the hopelessness of his situation could overcome him, Lars got to work. There was still a lot to be done if he wanted to keep the enemy out.


	17. Chapter 17: Holding the armoury

_+++5.200.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Menapi Volantis - armoury 51B+++_

Three hours later, Lars was quite content with what he had achieved. He had attached a buttload of frag grenades on the split against the two parts of the door. Next he had looked at the possibility to create a second, provisional door behind the first one. It had seemed an impossible task at first, until he had found a large cargo lifter at the back end of the room. Using the mechanized walker, he had created a crude wall of cargo racks and flak board. It definitely wouldn't be as secure as the doors, but Lars had planned a few nasty surprises.

Next he had directed his attention to the the air vents. A single, large pipe crossed the entire room. Since the ceiling was at least six meters high, Lars had found it hard at first to think of something, but when he had found the cargo lifter, he had found new courage and had climbed to the pipe via the heavy cart and attached krak grenades to the rivetting where the pipe entered and left the room. A lucky find of motion detectors had been all he had needed to finish the booby trap. Lars just hoped that destroying the pipe would also mean the end of any such attempts to infiltrate the room.

Lars was just getting ready to start work on a second layer of defenses around the doors, when he heared a clammering sound coming from the first door. Quickly he gathered his weapon of choice to stop a first assault: an exquisite combat shotgun, matblack with a grenadelauncher mounted under the barrel. It was a real beauty and would definitely help him to give the attackers something to think about if, or better, when they would pierce his defenses. Ramming aside one of the flakboards of the racks of his crude barricade, he aimed for the middle of the door. At the other side of it, the gangers were hacking away at it with pickaxes or something alike. At least the sound of metal on metal rung through the room. After another minute, a metal bar struck through the plasrub lining of the door. Almost immediately another improvised anchor was rammed through the small opening.

"Come on men. Put your back into it. Wrig it open. Now!" came a yelled command from the other side of the door.

 _'Please do, fragheads.'_

Lars grinned as he wrenched his shotgun against his left shoulder, carefully putting his right index finger on the trigger, trying not to force his right arm even more. Even with the terrain to his advantage, it would be a close call. If they would press on, he could easily be overrun. Lars could see how the smugglers had managed to wriggle open the door about a foot. The little wires that held the grenades were stretched to the max. The men at the door however, were quite cautious to continue though. They were expecting a barrage of fire as soon as they would leave the cover of the door.

 _'Think again fraggers.'_

Lars' grin melted away as the situation became critical. He could hear how the leader at the other side also tensed. "Come on fethers! Get going or do I need to start shooting you myself?!"

 _'They are lacking good leadership, Akira. Perfect!'_

At that point, the two halves of the door slid open another two feet, causing the wires to snap. When the gangers stormed through the opening, they felt the little iron balls of death fall on their shoulders and could hear them bouncing off the floor between their feet. There would be no way to save themselves by throwing them away. Lars had made sure that at least a dozen grenades would come down. Seeing how the gangers broke their advance and wanted to turn around, Lars hid behind the flakboard and waited for the explosions. He didn't need to wait long. Along with the sound of the explosion, Lars could hear the screams of the dying and about two seconds later the wet thuds of ripped off body parts falling to the floor and hitting his flakboard barricade.

"FETH! Storm the fethers! NOW!" The, now shrill, voice of the gangleader spurred his men on to move in once more. At that point, Lars turned back and pointed his grenadelauncher at the opening. Remorselessly, he fired off his first projectile. The fist-sized grenade with the small promethium symbol engraved in it, sailed through the slid between the doors and forcefully found it's way into the stomach of the first smuggler coming through the doors. Lars didn't enjoy the dumbfounded and pained look on the man's face, but was franticly reloading the launcher. A loud whoosing reached him, quickly followed by the screams of the victims that had been caught by the fire. If they would press on now, Lars knew that at least a few would be able to get inside and that his atttack would lose momentum. However, the smugglers, having seen the absolute destruction of their comrades and being confronted with the terrible sight of their friends in arms being incinerated, didn't listen to the cursing and shouting of their leader. Instead, Lars used the moment to fire off another fire grenade into the mass of bodies behind the doors. It was all the gangers needed to ignore their leader and start running. Lars didn't notice at first, because he was pushing yet another grenade in the chamber of the launcher. He also fired this third bomb, but noticed afterwards that the attack had been broken and that the door was cleared from enemies.

Quickly he changed position and wrenched himself through the hole in his barricade. Taking care not to step in the burning promethium, he detached the two anchors the gangers had used to wrick open the doors. Next, he reactivated the machine spirit and let the door slide shut once more. Even though his situation was still critical, he had won the first battle. His enthusiasm was dampened shortly after when he saw that still only three hours and fifteen minutes had passed since Willis had left.

* * *

 _+++5.200.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Menapi Volantis - armoury+++_

Right after the attack, adrenaline had been coursing through Lars' veins. However, three hours later, its effect was all but gone. Even though Patrice's drugs staved off the tremors, Lars could feel how the disease had been taking its toll. Also, it had been a long day. He had put in a nap when he had been aboard the _Affray_ but the circumstances had been far from ideal to sleep. All in all, Lars had needed to take a rest. He had managed to attach a new batch of frag grenades to the front door and he had installed a back-up system to reinforce his improvised barricade, but three hours after the first attack, he had been overcome by sleep.

He was up for a rude awakening. A creaking noise teared through the silence. Lars opened his eyes and grabbled for his shotgun. At that point the creaking noise stopped and he could hear an engine running. "Come on fethers. Another pull should do it. Watch out for the grenades!"

 _'Frak. They are at the gate. Quickly Akira!'_

Lars scrambled to his feet and followed the noise to the front gate. As he broke in a run, he could hear a heavy engine revving and immediately after, the creaking noise could be heard again. Before he got to his barricade, Lars could hear the frag grenades going off, but this time, no screams of pain followed.

 _'They've found a way around your trap. Run fragger!'_

Lars pushed himself some more and came at the barricade, just when the enemy leader gave the command to attack. Through a slit between the flak boards, Lars could see a small cargo truck standing in the hallway. At its back two heavy chains were attached that ended with a grappling hook. With the vehicle the gangers had managed to tear off the doors entirely. Lars could also see that the leader, who was standing on the back of the truck, aimed his laspistol at the barricade and fired a shot to underline his command. "Take the fethers! Mind your spacing! Don't stick together. Remember the fire grenades!" Lars didn't wait to see what happened next. He knew what would come next. And luckily he had prepared for this scenario. He had thought it impossible to prevent the enemy from getting near his barricade indefinitely. So he ran to the middle of the barricade, where four ropes were laying on the ground. Quickly he gathered them in his left hand.

 _'Yes remember the fire grenades. You're in for something worse.'_

Lars could see how the advance of the gangers was hesitant at first. Surely they were expecting gunfire from his position. However, he wouldn't betray his situation by firing solely on them. It would only bolster their spirit to charge his position. Instead, he kept them in the dark. As the expected resistance failed to occur, the men picked up speed and started their charge in all earnest. Lars waited till the last moment. The first of the attackers were only two meters away of the barricade and their enthusiastic screams spoke of easy victory and contempt for their opponents. Behind them the hallway became filled with their more prudent colleagues.

 _'Not prudent enough.'_

At that point, Lars pulled at the four ropes. Immediately the space before his barricade was engulfed in flames. Terrible cries of pain could be heard and some of the gangers in the first ranks were battering on the metal racks. The men that had followed them, first screamed of fear, but as the fire spread on, those screams turned into screams of pain too. Lars could feel the terrible heat at the other side of the wall of junk and he could smell the sweet scent of charred meat together with the stink of burning flakboard. Lars stopped pulling the ropes and immediately the source of the inferno dried up.

The ropes were connected to the triggers of four heavy military grade flamers. Lars hadn't recognized the pattern, but had found a dozen tripods that he had used to fit them on. As he peered out into the hallway, his improvised firing solution had worked wonders with the enemy. From his position he could see at least twenty bodies smouldering. One or two the furthest away were trying to crawl back to the truck. And there, for the first time, he could observe the enemy leader in greater detail. His face had lost all colour. The look of horror was quite opposed to the image he was sending with his outfit. In his left hand he held the laspistol he had used to spur the men on. In his right hand he held some kind of chain blade. Lars hadn't had too much experience with the weapon, but he knew that only the able or the foolish would use such a blade. An inexperienced user would just as easily cut off his own leg instead of cutting down his enemy. So the man at least had some individual fighting skills. His leadership was lacking though.

Even with twenty of his men reduced to smoking piles of ashes, he made the same mistake. Lars had to admit that he had burned through half of the promethium in the cannisters, but still. This man showed no intelligence... Revving the chainsword, the man cried infuriated to his men. The gangers weren't impressed. They were though when he chopped off the head of one in the first line, cleanly. Pointing the chainsword to his position, Lars couldn't understand over the din of the chainweapon what the leader yelled at his men, but sure enough they advanced once more. Only to stop at the edge of the scorched area. Lars kept the ropes ready, but the troops wouldn't advance any further. Until one of them sank to his knees, sporting a smoking hole in his chest. The leader aimed his laspistol at the next man. It was all the encouragement they needed. Trapped between two enemies, the men chose to take their chances with Lars' defenses which had remained silent.

Lars saw them coming, not cheering like they had before, but cautious, crouching, almost crawling towards his position. He wanted to wait until they were all within reach, but at the back, the gangers lagged. Not enough to get them shot by their leader, but enough to stay out of reach of the burst of flames Lars had prepared. His eagerness to burn them all, became his demise. When he decided to use the flamers the same scene played out, except for three of the gangers that had managed to find cover against his own barricade. The snouts of the heavy flamers belched out their deadly load of burning promethium, but this lucky threesome had found a spot that wasn't covered by the blaze. At first, Lars didn't notice the men. It was only when the four flamers ran out of promethium, that he could hear them cheering. At the back of the hallway, he could hear the leader screaming too. "That's it men. Storm them! NOW!"

In a glimpse, Lars saw that the leader himself had sprung off the back of the track and had joined the men in their final approach. Lars panicked. The three men were tearing away the flakboards and would soon be behind the barricade. Worse, his defense mechanism to keep the enemy horde at bay was of no more use. There would be no time to recharge the flamers. Lars looked at the shotgun in his hands. He could shoot the first gangers, but they would overpower him quickly.

 _'Throne on Terra. You've had it Akira.'_

But then his eye fell on the large cargo lifter he had used to create the barricade. Without further thinking, Lars ran at the machine. He had just wedged himself in the cabin, when the first ganger managed to break through the barricade. Expecting to be clubbed to death, the moment he broke through, he rolled to the side. Lars rammed the engine in first gear, forgetting to praise the machinespirit. However, the machine launched itself forwards. At that point a second ganger managed to wring himself through a hole near one of the flamers. The first one had a look of amazement when he saw the lack of opposition. The look changed into one of horror when he saw the fork of the lifter coming straight at him. Lars aimed for the first ganger, but didn't slow when the man dove to the side. Ramming the engine head first in the barricade, he saw the stack of flakboard, racks and other junk staggering. At his left side, the second ganger took a shot at him with his handcannon. Although the bullet punched right through the safety glass of the lifter, it missed Lars's head by an inch. Lars threw the engine in reverse and back in first again as the ganger reloaded his crude handcannon. At his right side, the other ganger had seen the opportunity to rise up and throw himself at the door of the cargolifter. With gritted teeth, Lars forced himself to open the right door with his broken arm and shove his boot into the man's face. At that point the lifter bored itself once more into the barricade. Lars could see how the thing started to topple. From the corner of his sight, he also saw that the second ganger was aiming the handcannon at him. Without hesitation he threw himself out of the cabin, falling onto the unfortunate ganger at his right. Ramming his left arm against the man's throat, crushing the windpipe, Lars condemned him to a slow and painful death.

 _'Now the other one, Akira. Quickly!'_

"Where are you fragger! In the name of the Emperor..." Lars yelled, looking franticly for the last smuggler that had managed to break through his barricade. With a great crashing sound, the barricade finally fell over, crushing at least another five attackers and blocking the entrance of the armoury with a jumble of flakboard, racks and crates. Lars didn't notice and focused on the third man who held a walkie vox unit and crawled to his laspistol he'd dropped as he had dived for cover. "I repeat, he's alone here. Send in reinforcement! He's alone! I repeat..." *Ka-Blam... Ka-Blam* Lars put in a second shell in the ganger, just for good measure. He had all the ammo he needed at his back. But the enemy now had all the information it needed.


	18. Chapter 18: Last stand on the Menapi

_+++5.201.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Menapi Volantis - armoury 51B+++_

The latest debacle of the gang leader had bought Lars quite some time. However, he found it rather frustrating that he couldn't do much with that time. He had recovered the flamers from the junkpile and installed them at the back door, but since the gangers had left that door alone since the beginning, Lars had wondered if it would do much good. Next he had tried to salvage the cargo lifter, but its collision with the barricade had burried it under too much debris so that it was stuck. The barricade, that had become an improvised barrier, didn't reassure Lars. If they would set their mind to it, the gangers might dig through it. Or just blow it out of the way. Lars wished there had been a second lifter, but with his reckless action he had destroyed the only one available.

To discourage his opponents from digging through the pile, Lars had placed another ten grenades between the rubble, making sure that who ever started rummaging through the mess, wouldn't be doing it for long. The explosions themselves, would clear the way eventually though. It would soak some more of the ressources the gangers had at their disposal, but in the end it was a bit of a fool's move, Lars acknowledged.

Although Lars went around the armoury once more, he didn't find anything useful anymore, nor did the Emperor send him any divine inspiration. In fact, quite the opposite happened. When Lars was busy setting up a last line of defense - a few panels of flakboard, pushed together - he felt how his left arm started shaking. Checking his chrono, he saw that quite a few hours had passed and that the symptoms of the _morbille musculu_ were acting up again. For half an hour, Lars staved off the inevitable, but if he wanted to keep in fighting condition, he needed to take the last dose of the _Lebertran_. Swallowing down the bitter fluid, Lars cursed. If all was going well, Willis would be in hive Styx now, looking for help. He had hoped that he would have held off the gangers far longer, but the Emperor had put him in a difficult position. Overcome with fatigue, Lars slumped to the ground, behind his improvised cover.

* * *

 _+++5.202.986.M41+++  
_ _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Menapi Volantis - armoury 51B+++_

"...ther! Yes, you, fether! Pick up, dammit! We know you're in there."

Lars rubbed his eyes, but then he realized they must have overtaken him while he was asleep. Only... he didn't feel any riflebuts boring into his side, nor was he cuffed. Looking around, he could see that he was still in the armoury, and that there was no sign of the gangers. "Answer me, fether. You haven't died, did you? I'm sure you didn't. You shot my last man in there, so pick up the FETHING vox, bastard!" Lars got to his feet and checked his chrono. Eight more hours had passed.

 _'What. They're still not in here, Akira? What a bunch of frak-ups.'_

Despite the pain in his belly and his arm, his face cracked in a smile.

 _'The frakker hasn't even tried to get back in here. Or you would have been rudely awakened by an explosion, Akira. He must have some troubles with his personnel.'_

Lars kept on grinning while the voice of the leader echoed through the armoury. Walking up towards a vox unit attached to the wall, he wondered what the man was up to now. Definitely some kind of sham to trick him into giving himself up. "Come on, fether. We know you're there. Talk to me, bastard." It seemed the leader of the smugglers only possessed of a limited amount of curses, so Lars interrupted him. "This is regulator Akira. Serving the Adeptus Arbites. And who might you be, sir?" Lars' answer apparently had a positive effect on the other man's vocabulary. "Argh, you rabid dog. You killed half of my men, you know." Lars smiled. "I didn't know, sir, but thank you for the information." The gang leader didn't seem to notice his slip of the tongue. "So what is your plan, fether? Think you can outlast us? If there is one thing I know, it's that you might have all the fething grenades you want, but there isn't a single thing to eat." The man sounded angry.

 _'Perhaps he's on the brink of losing control over his men, Akira. You'd be angry too.'_

Still, it was too good an opportunity to let go, so Lars replied. "The Emperor has provided me with a fine stock of roasted meat." The regulator could hear how the man sucked in his breath, perhaps too shocked to reply in kind. Before the ganger could think of another series of new curses, he tried to calm the man down a bit. "But perhaps a prolonged diet on this meat might not be beneficial for my long term health." He heard how the other man took a few seconds to compose himself. "Yes, about that. Perhaps we can come to some kind of agreement, fether. I might just be so good as to provide you with a bit more freedom than you're having right now."

 _'Bargaining, Akira? This guy is in deeper_ skit _then.'_

Lars leaned against the wall, keeping the heavy grey vox horn pressed against his ear with his left hand. "Why? Afraid for a run-in with your buyer? Maybe you won't be able to keep your end of the bargain?" Lars guessed. He had no idea why the man had suddenly reverted to talking. He could only assume that he had ran out of options to take the armoury by force and that he needed it urgently. "Let's say that is the case." Lars could hear how the anger had dissapated from the man's tone. It had been replaced with something else. Guile perhaps? He still sounded tense.

 _'He needs this deal, Akira.'_

"Would you be willing to come to your senses and make a deal?" the man continued, seemingly trying to smooth over a bodged attempt to buy a crate of lho sticks. "We from the Adeptus Arbites are known for our fair deals," Lars answered, "Before we go any further though, care to give me your name? If we're going to trust each other, we should get on a personal basis, no?"

 _'Just give him the impression that something is possible, Akira. Then, start with the demands.'_

The man only hesitated for a second. "We might just as well. My name is Errendis Clémenceau." "Pleasure to meet you, Errendis. Can't say that I've heard of you." Lars replied and he heard the other man laughing. "Can't say I'm sad to hear that, regulator." Lars repaid him in kind. "Haha, yeah well," but immediately he sounded serious again. "Now I've heard of you. So what is this deal you were talking about?" The smuggler didn't seem to take offense. "Well, you might just be a bit right about my buyer becoming impatient, so instead of ruining my priviliged relation with him, how would you feel in becoming part of the relation itself?" Lars had his answer ready. "Well. That depends. To be blunt: what's in it for me, Errendis?" Immediately Errendis made an offer. It seemed like he had thought this through. "We've been selling some items from the _Menapi_ 's stores. And we've fared well since. I can't imagine the Imperium paying very well. If you strike a deal with me, you might just be able to quit te service and find yourself a nice pleasure planet." Lars scraped his throat. "That does sound interesting. What number are you talking. Again, sorry to be blunt." Lars could picture the man shaking his head on the other end of the line, smiling. "Not at all, not at all regulator." To make sure that Errendis would buy into this, Lars went on. "It's just that it has to be a fairly high number. The Adeptus Arbites don't look kindly on those that leave her ranks... well... too soon. At least if it is not by death. They're quite reasonable when one dies." Errendis chuckled. "I understand your predicament, regulator... If I tell you that your number has 7 digits, would that suffice?" Lars pauzed for a second, trying to give the impression that he was contemplating the offer. "It would depend on which numbers you're referring to exactly. There is a lot of difference between, let's say a nine and a one, no?" Errendis' tone got serious again, although he wasn't threatening Lars anymore. It seemed like he thought he was doing business. With a tough bargainer. "I see what you mean, fether. Hehehe. Ok. How about 5 mil. Would that do?"

Now, Lars waited some more. He checked his chrono again. Every second he won by negotiating with Clémenceau, was one in which Willis could get closer to relieving him. "Well, regulator?" A tad of impatience crept in Errendis' voice. "Hang on, I'm counting. I've never been very good at maths." Lars stalled. "Hahaha. Something we have in common then. I'll hold." Lars kept looking at his chrono and he tried to push away the feeling of despair that was creeping onto him. What use were a few seconds if Willis wouldn't be able to convince local law enforcement to step in. Or if they would but didn't have the means to reach the _Menapi_ in force. Lars shook his head. He needed to focus on this negotiation.

"... I think I have figured it out. Perhaps if you put in another two mil, it will do." He heard how the other man sighed. "Your cooperation doesn't come cheaply, does it?" Lars tried to determine if he had been shooting for too big a number. That would be good, because then, Clémenceau would have to do a counter offer. "I understand your position Errendis. But see it from my side. If I want to buy off the brass so that they let me go, a lot of that money is already spoken for. And you have to understand that I won't be buying mere enforcers." "Although those cost plenty already..." Errendis agreed.

 _'So, he has tried to buy them off, Akira, but perhaps he failed.'_

"You see, you see." Lars agreed enthusiastically, "So, if I want to go on and get me that slice of paradise, I'll need the extra dough." "Sure, regulator. Sure. I understand. Let me do the numbers on my side, ok?" Errendis said, making Lars wonder how much they were actually making with this operation. "Take your time Errendis. I'd hate it if I cheated you out of a good deal." Lars kept the line open.

 _'Ok Akira. Now what's your next step. It would seem good Errendis should come up with a peaceful solution for the situation. One where you walk away alive, no?'_

"Regulator? I've done the maths fether. It seems like your deal is just about right." Errendis said a few minutes later. "I thought you might accept it." Lars answered, hesitating a second. The ganger's tone was somehow off. Still, he needed to continue this negotiation to get... *Ka-BOOM* The sound of an explosion rung through the armoury. Lars immediately ducked down and left the vox horn hanging. Quickly he checked his surroundings. The source of the explosion was obvious. Above the front door, the ventilation tube had been blown up.

 _'So it were no real negociations at all. Dammit Akira.'_

Black smoke poured out of the hole, but to his horror, Lars could see that together with the pipe, a part of the wall was missing too. The krak grenade he had attached had caused too much collateral damage. It was the perfect breach of the room. Three men abreast could pass by easily. As soon as the thugs would find out, he would be lost. Lars grabbed the shotgun and ran to the rack closest to the breach, covering the entrance. His hope sunk to the bottom when the blackened faces of at least three gangers peeked among the edge. With a desperate fury burning inside, he opened fire.

 _'So it is your last stand after all, Akira. Just make them pay for it.'_

He nearly missed it over the deep booming noises his combat shotgun made, but from his right ear, where his microbead was still wedged in his ear, a soft crackling sound reached him. "Regulator Akira. Regulator Akira. This is Delta force. Do you copy? Do you copy?"


	19. Chapter 19: Bomb's away

_+++5.204.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx - Saint Egidius Medicae Station+++_

Instead of waiting for the inevitable, Lars had abandoned the armoury after picking off the three gangers that had remained from the commando. He had been sure that now the way to the armoury was clear, Errendis would send in everything he had. And there had been no more tricks up his sleaves.

Believing that the gangers would have at least thrown up their own barricades behind the doors of the armoury, Lars had fled the hall via the other end of the ventilation system, leaving the krak grenade intact. He had thought about taking the combi shotgun-grenade launcher with him, but had decided against it. With Willis and the enforcers on the way, he had bet everything on speed and stealth instead of a dogged defense. The weapon would only slow him down and even with the stabilising effect of the _Lebertran_ , Lars has seen how his aim had been off already during the latest firefight with the gangers. Worse, while scrambling through the vent system, it had felt like his strength itself was fleeting. So his own Pugnatis-pattern autopistols had been his best choice. Just pointing it in the general direction of the enemy and spraying them at full auto should do the trick.

Luckily he had managed to make contact with Willis' troops. It had been the end of a long, drawn-out fight. It had also been the end for Errendis and his gang. Lars hadn't been sure what Willis had done to get them aboard, but they had stormed the _Menapi Volantis_ with the combined troops of three precincts. The gangers, that had already suffered severe losses and critical damage in terms of morale, had surrendered for the most part. Willis had even managed to capture Errendis in one piece. More or less.

He had left the operation entirely to Willis. The enforcer medic had taken a look at his vitals and decided that he wouldn't be of much use anyway. Lars had told her off the _morbille musculu_ , but the man had neither the skill, nor the knowledge to do anything. In fact, the man's face had reflected his own hopelessness when he heard about the diagnose. Nevertheless, he had demanded an immediate medevac for him and a squad of the enforcers had brought him to one of the submersibles the enforcers had employed to reach the _Menapi_.

He had lost track of time afterwards. He vaguely remembered being brought to a medicae facility on a stretcher, but he didn't recall any treatments. Now he was laying in a clean bed in a clean room. He even had a view that wasn't too bad. He could see the massive storm clouds over the ocean of Phlegethon, pouring their acid rain into it. Which meant he was at a top notch facility. Otherwise there would have been no view at all, or if there had been one, it would have been one of a backstreet alley of some sorts. He grinned. Surely, Arthur would come through the door any minute now, congratulating him with the success.

Instead, Lars didn't get any visitors apart from a skullprobe that had given him an injection of something. It was only late at night, when Willis entered his room. The man gave him a mock salute and Lars returned the favour.

"So gov. How are you feeling?" the other man started. "Still very weak, but I'm sure I'll get better." Lars' throat was hoarse and when the regulator heard his own voice, it sounded distant. Willis' face darkened. "No one told you, eh?" "Told me what Willis?" Lars frowned. "Well... Frakking medicae bastards." Willis put his hands behind his back, and Lars knew he was wringing them together out of frustration. "Told me what?" Willis had the decency to make eye contact. "Well gov. Even though we rushed you off to this place, the docters are telling me that..." He hesitated and Lars spurred him on. "Go on, frakker!" Nodding softly, Willis continued. "They are telling me that they were too late to prevent permanent damage to your muscles." After a short moment of silence, Lars spoke up. "What do you mean?" "Well, you won't be a cripple, but you won't regain all of your strength either."

If Lars would have sat up, he would have slumped onto the bed then and there. Willis tried to soften the blow, but his bedside manners had already done enough. "I'm sorry gov. It should have..." Lars looked away, a grim look on his face. "Don't talk nonsense Willis. You did what had to be done..." Then he whispered. "So Patrice was right. The frakking fether was right..."

Lars's voice trailed off and he sighed. For a moment the two men shared the silence. Until Willis scraped his throat. "I'm sorry gov. But you're not done yet." Lars looked up and saw that Willis held up a dataslate. "What's this Willis?" Lars asked as he accepted the dataslate. It had peeked his curiosity. He tried to clear the air and tried some mockery, although seeing Willis' face, it hardly did the trick. "You think I'm your paper pusher now? Fat chance, Willis. For the moment I still outrank you." The men remained stone cold serious. "No gov. It's a astropath message. It's from Arthur."

Lars opened the file on the dataslate. He started reading, but Willis could see that his fellow arbite was scrolling through the document frantically after half a minute.

"Have you read this Willis?" The other man shook his head in denial. "No gov. It was a message adressed to you." Lars laid down the slate. "Well... Take a look at it." He tried to sit up, but his muscles failed him. Grunting from frustration he fell back on the thick pillow on the bed. "You need to take it from me, dammit." Willis tried to keep his face in check, but Lars could see a look of pity in the man's eyes.

 _'No frakking way this is the end. No frakking way Akira.'_

When the other man started reading, Lars could see his own feelings mirrorred on Willis' face: confusion, frustration...

"You understand anything of this, gov?" Willis asked, raising the data slate. "It's a load of warped garble, if you're asking me, but I swear I really got it like this from the choir." Lars smiled. "Have you ever got a message from them before Willis?" "No, not me gov." Willis answered. The absolute majority of the Imperial population wouldn't have ever received a message via astropath. "Well, me neither. Perhaps this is how it's supposed to be." Willis laughed nervously. "You can't be serious Lars. This makes no sense at all." Lars laughed out loud and Willis suspected that the regulator was laughing away his frustration. About his health, and now, this message. "What do we know Walther? I guess I'll have to start looking for some sense in this." "Well, good luck with that." Willis answered, a bit too sarcastic. "Yeah. Thanks fragger." Lars replied in kind and suddenly they were back to their usual routine, exchanging japes with one another even if they were of different rank.

Lars sobered up first. "Laugh all you want servi-brain. I've got some work for you. You might not like it, but as long as we're here, and as long as we don't understand, we'll continue our investigation. We've still got one of the bombs missing. And Rickerd... Well, we've got no leads on the fraghead, do we?" At this point, Willis looked at his feet, clearly embarassed by something. "Well, the interrogation of Errendis could have gone better." Lars scraped his throat again, sensing trouble. "What do you mean?" Once more Willis' communication could have been more direct. "Well... Erhm..." But Lars had no patience for this. "Go on then. Spit it out!" Willis kept staring at his feet. "Well... Errendis didn't survive his latest session with the excruciator." Lars cursed. "Frak! How did that happen?" Now Willis looked up, and Lars could see that he was very annoyed to bring the news. "I'm not sure gov. I wasn't there. We handed him over to the enforcers. But then it went wrong." Lars felt it appropriate to reassure his young colleague. "I would have done the same thing. It's just you and me on this ball of acid. So what happened?" Seeing how his superior stepped up, Willis started speaking frankly. "Well, like I said gov. I'm not sure, but he went in alive and came out dead. They are telling me that he reacted badly on some kind of drug. Forgot the name. Something about an unforeseen allergy."

Lars stared at the soft green wall of his hospital room, keeping Willis on his toes, even though that wasn't Lars intention. He was thinking this new setback over. "... Right. That sounds more like an 'accident', if you catch my drift. Which means we've got reason to distrust the enforcers." Willis tried to intervene. "But brigadier Mogaba extended his help immediately. It was him who pointed us to the smugglers in the first place." Lars made a throw away gesture. "I know Willis. I'm not saying they are completely compromised. Best case scenario? Rickerd payed off the chastener once. Worst case scenario? He has multiple moles inside the enforcer corps, some of them higher ups. Whatever the case, we can't really trust the enforcers now, do we? Even if it was a unique payment, Rickerd could do it again." Willis started to protest, but Lars talked right through. "We don't have the time to investigate the enforcer squad. We need to focus on the bomb. And this..."

Lars turned off the dataslate, sighed and looked outside. Rain had started ticking against the hospital window. The first rainclouds of the storm had reached the hive and pretty soon every citizen would have to find shelter. The acid rain spared no one.

"We also need to take care of ourselves." Lars continued "I need you to move me, without the enforcers knowing where. I need you to bring me to another facility in this hive, good enough to get me back to full strength, but not noticeable enough for Rickerd to find me and send in a kill squad. You need to find yourself a safe house too. That's your first priority. We'll go from there."

After an hour or two, Willis left the medicae station. Lars smiled as the man left the room. This one had chosen to serve the Imperium voluntarily. It was quite a different story from Lars' own initiation. And the Emperor could be proud of Walther Willis. It wouldn't take long before the young dog, because he was quite a bit younger than Lars, would take the lead. Arthur would recognize the talent soon enough. Lars imagined that after this case, judge Belloran would send the man away on a mission of his own. Perhaps after an intense training period with Horrigan, but the young man was already better with the shock maul than Lars had ever been. And looking at his own arms, he wouldn't be taking up the weapon anytime soon.

'Instead of cracking skulls, you'll be shooting them open, old chap.' Lars could hear one of Artur's possible comments in his head.

 _'Perhaps you better have a little talk with your doctor, Akira. Wherever Willis will bring you, it won't be as good as here.'_

* * *

 _+++5.209.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Mobatu Spire Palace+++_

Even though Lars had been here for 2 days, every time he looked away from the dataslate, he was still dazzled by the unimaginable richness and luster of the room he was staying in. It started with the bed. In fact the thing wouldn't fit in any of the quarters Lars had occupied since he was born. It had yellow velour curtains so that you could screen yourself from the rest of the room, which would be nice because of the size of it. Lars thought that you could easily host a dinner party for a few dozen guests in his room. It gave you the feeling that some extra privacy was in order. The canopy of the four poster bed depicted a lovely scene of a forest with wildlife. Lars couldn't decide if he liked it. On the one hand it certainly was better than the average view of Rexon, his homeworld, but on the other hand, Lars didn't really feel at ease with the catlike creature with the purple pelt, nor with the reptilian creature that sported a bit too many mouths to Lars' liking. Beyond the bed, the lavishness continued. Golden chandeliers hung from the ceiling that had been embellished with complex frescoes that depicted more natural scenery. The walls had been adorned with large paintings, the smallest still measuring 3 by 5 meters. These depicted, probably long dead, nobles in all kinds of positions. Lars found one of the pictures particularly preposterous. A woman was depicted on a battlefield in some sort of classic metal armour, pointing an 8 foot sword at the horizon, her foot resting on a pile of slain adversaries. As if battle was glorious.

Lars focused his attention back to the dataslate. In the two days he had studied the text on it, he hadn't been able to find out anything. It remained complete gibberish. It was bad enough that the sentences were all garbled, but worse was that most of the words, Lars never had heard off. It seemed like someone had mixed high gothic with the more common low gothic and since it was an official communication from the judge, he didn't dare to show it to anyone but Willis. But he had steered clear of the thing, saying that it was a message for the senior officer. Lars couldn't blame him for dodging this bullet. If you stared long enough at the text, you developped a mean headache. Like one you got when you had drunk too much low quality booze.

 _"Acquire Auxilium vis cito Imperialis and muster-/-to control conditionibus vel silla terrifying of destruction Arma. no one, specifica bastards macilentum planet Defensio Virium./. Volantis crash Menapi causis omni in probabilities by Imperator Duquercu./."_

And the thing went on, line after line, paragraph after paragraph. In his mind, Lars had considered multiple times to accuse the astropath responsible for this jumble of treason or incompetence. But he had to assume that this was a genuine message.

Frustrated, Lars threw the dataslate away. Or made a pathetic effort to do so. Even after all these days of bed rest, he couldn't throw the thing of the bed, although, admittedly, the side of the bed was a few metres away.

"Still having trouble with the script I see?" a soft, harmonious voice said.

Lars looked up. He saw a slender woman approaching his bed. She was wearing a long blue-and-yellow gown, a fine yellow scarf around her neck and her long blond hair was held back with a thin golden tiara, adorned with lots of small but brilliant saphires. As she approached the bed, the light that streamed into the room from the high but narrow windows glistens on the gold weaved into the fabric off the scarf and the gown. However, the beauty of the clothes paled next to the beauty of the woman. She had a fine figure, a shapely bosom, although not copious, a sharp nose and dark brown eyes. Contrary to what Lars was used to, this woman didn't wear any cosmetics to embellish herself any further, but then again, she hadn't any need any for that.

"Ah, honorable lady Niala. I didn't heard you coming in." Lars replied, smiling involuntarily. "I saw that you were concentrating on your document. I presume that even for a member of the Adeptus Arbites it is hard to remain aware of his surroundings when he's submerged in breaking a complicated code." the lady laughed, showing her perfect white teeth. "Perhaps honorable lady. Perhaps." Lars said, blushing.

Lady Niala clapped her hands once and suddenly one of her child servants appeared from behind her back, running to fetch a chair so that the lady could sit next to the bed. In the meanwhile, lady Niala picked up the dataslate and without looking at the illuminated text, she handed it over to the arbite.

"The Emperor will inspire you." she said, her confidence in him clear to anyone. Lars felt it was out of place. "I hope He does. I feel bloody useless." Lady Niala gently shook her head. "You shouldn't be too hard on yourself arbite Akira. You already made quite a sacrifice." Lars found a more appropriate look and put on a face of determination. "My duty is unfinished." The lady laughed again, amicably. "You are still working at it, arbite. No one questioned your commitment." Lars tried to keep his face in check. "But I'm not making enough progress." Lady Niala gracefully leaned back against the back of her chair. "Really?"

Lars grunted, but blushed immediately after. He wasn't used to the company of noblemen, let alone a magnficent noblewoman. " _Ursäkta_. I mean, I'm sorry, honorable lady." Niala laughed, spontaneously and not hindered by any form of protocol. "Are all the members of the Adeptus Arbites such innocent characters? I'm used to far worse than a bit of grunting, or the occasional foul word for that matter." She teased. Lars could feel himself blushing again and tried to take a more manly position. He was no judge Belloran. He only had experience with women back on Rexon, but there it had been fellow workers of his gang or the not so unspoiled barflies one could count on after a hard day of work. This woman only had to be in the room with him to destabilize him.

"My lady must be joking." Lars said embarassed. "Hardly, arbite Akira. Hardly. Now tell me. How are things? Do you feel any improvements?" Lars shook his head. "No, honorable lady. I'm sorry to say. Although your private physician is doing everything he can." She gave him another confident look. "I'm sure the Emperor will provide you with your strenght before long. I will pray for you this evening in the chapel." This wasn't helping to stop the blushing. Lars felt his cheeks glowing. "My lady is far too good." he whispered. "Hahaha. Arbite Akira. Your inexperience with nobility is so refreshing. It sounds like you're actually impressed with my titel." Lars looked at the noblewoman. "Is there any reason not to? You've harboured us, even when there is danger threatening is from all sides? You are a pious woman."

Niala calmed down and seemed to sober up. A tang of sadness rang through her words. "You grew up on a forge world, did you not? So your masters where all members of the cult Mechanicus, right? I doubt you would feel the same way had you grown up on a hive world, dominated by its spire masters. For the people below, we live a priviliged life, far from the hardship and sorrow they encounter on a daily basis. When I would ask you about your former masters, you would admit to an equal, negative opinion as the ordinary citizens of Hive Styx have of us."

Lars thougt about that statement. He hadn't particularly liked taking orders from the techpriests. Technographer M5 could drone on about efficiency, quality standards and overtime. However, the man had worked side by side with them and although his quarters must have been more luxurious than Lars', he didn't think it had been unfair. When he thought about the fabricator, his face darkened, but before the treason, he had held the fabricator in high esteem. The working conditions hadn't been particularly good, but they had had decent chow, bearable working hours and bars and canteens to relax after a good day of work.

"No, I don't think we harboured such an attitude towards our superiors, honorable lady. Of course, there was a bit of rivalry, but nothing... bad." He said hesitantly, afraid to contradict his hostess. But the noblewoman smiled again. "Ah arbite Akira. Once again you confirm my belief in the servants of the Emperor."

Suddenly the doors of the bedroom swung open and a little runner approached the bed. Niala stood up and took the sealed enveloppe the kid was carrying. "Your comrade in arms has arrived. He is not well. I'll go and meet him." Lars wanted to raise too, but his ailment didn't let him. Grunting once more he raised his voice. "Bring him here as soon as possible, my lady." "I will, arbite!" she replied to him as she hastily set out to meet Willis.


	20. Chapter 20: Bringing in the lady

_+++5.210.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Mobatu Spire Palace+++_

The news had been grim. In his efforts to discover the location of the last virus bomb, Willis had been ambushed. Even though they had minimized the contact with the enforcer corps of Hive Styx, Lars couldn't shake the thought that Rickerd had once more seen an opportunity to hinder their investigation. Luckily, Willis hadn't suffered more than a flesh wound to the shoulder and a few bumps and bruises. However, it had been their last lead to follow. With Arthur's message still completely unintelligable, they were now "dead in the water" as the judge used to say when he was at a point in one of his stories where his heroics seemed to come to an end.

 _'You just need to find an unexpected comeback, Akira. Just like Arthur when he finds himself outnumbered and outgunned, face to face with one of the most devious smugglers of the subsector.'_

Lars mused about the story the judge had told. In the end he had accused one of the lieutenants of backstabbing the smuggler which had created enough of a diversion to escape his critical "dead in the water" situation. Right now he could use such a trick, or an Imperator up his sleeve as Willis would say it. Even more so, now the prolonged attention of the Mobatu court physician didn't produce the desired results.

Lars was lost deep in his thoughts, so that lady Niala could sneak up on him again.

"My favourite arbite. Lost in concern once more?" she asked, her voice as melodious as ever. "Honorable lady. I didn't hear you come in. How can I help you?" Lars said quickly, trying to hide his surprise. "Well, I believe the question should be, how I can be of your assistance." the noblewoman said with a confident smile. Lars didn't really understand "Why, my lady?" "I spoke with your friend Willis. Perhaps fortunately for you, he is less silent when it comes to his orders than you are, arbite Akira." When he heard that, Lars' face darkened and anyone could see that he didn't like what he heard.

 _'Frakking Willis. It's bad enough we're here, endangering lady Niala, let alone involving her even further in this mess.'_

"He shouldn't have troubled you with is, my lady. You are doing more than your share to harbour us here in your home." the regulator said, gently trying to dissuade Niala to persue the subject. "Yes, you and your friend are a real burden for my household." She replied mockingly. Lars returned her smile with a nervous laugh. "Haha. Serious now. arbite Willis shouldn't have got you involved." The lady's smile disappeared and her tone turned serious. "My turn to laugh, arbite Akira. You're in no position to try and protect me. In fact, it seems like you should use all the help you can get." Lars started to protest, but Niala wouldn't have any of it. "Listen. My husband is off trying to bring order to one of our cobalt thorium mines. My eldest son has been shipped off with his regiment to Emperor knows which planet that is threatened by a Xeno invasion. I haven't heard from my youngest since he left to join the ranks of the Ecclesiarchy... It is time I make an effort. And you're in luck. This Rickerd you're looking for? Naturally, house Mobatu has no direct dealings with the man. However, we know a few houses that might do so. So how about I set up a meeting of some sorts and take the heretic into custody. My house guard is to be trusted, at least more than your enforcer cousins so it seems."

Lars' face had grown more pale with every sentence Niala had said. Once more he tried to protest. "But..." Once more lady Niala shut him down. "I'm sorry Lars, but I won't take no for an answer. You're not in any position to deny my help. And even if you wanted to deny it, you wouldn't be able to stop me!" Suddenly, the noblewoman started blushing, while Lars stayed silent as he let the words sink in. After a few moments, Niala scraped her throat. "That's settled then." Lars sighed resigned. "It seems it is, my lady."

Happy and easygoing once more, lady Niala continued the conversation as if she hadn't had to point out Lars' current situation. "Right, I'll get my spy master to set it up." Even though he had been forced to agree to this, Lars decided to play along now. If anything, he would try to set this to his hand as much as possible. "I'd appreciate it, if he would come by first. I'm sure you will prove a bait that Rickerd will not dare to take, but my concern for your safety isn't blotted out because you'll have your house guard attending." And since she had gotten her way, the noblewoman agreed courteously. "Of course, arbite Akira. I'll make sure he does."

Afterwards, Lars thought about his own Imperator up his sleeve. He was pretty sure that Arthur never had had a tactical surprise as beautiful as his.

* * *

 _+++5.225.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Mobatu Spire Palace+++_

Although the prolonged siege on board of the _Menapi Volantis_ was still fresh in his memory, the tension he felt, was still something else. At least, even though the situation had appeared hopeless, he had been in control of the action. He had been able to shoot his weapons, prepare traps, control his environment... Now, however, that control, or maybe the illusion of control, had been taken away from him. He was still laying in the luxurious bed, barely able to sit upright and his only weapon was the vox unit he was holding to his ear. At the other side of the line he could hear faint noises of lady Niala's breathing and the rustling of her robes. She had left the palace grounds and although she was accompanied by a large detachment of her house guard, out of his reach. He still cursed himself for accepting the plan. Even at this stage he pondered how he could have provided her with better protection. He had told Willis to disguise himself as a member of the house guard and stay close to the lady, but there, in his absurdly large bed, in his ridiculously lavish room, it all felt like it was too little to protect his asset. He also felt like he was flying blind. Even though he got an occasional status update from Willis, the information he received was vox only. And to keep up appearances Willis, and lady Niala for that matter, couldn't give him a constant stream of feedback.

Horrigan had once told him that a lot of the judge's time went into this. Following operations on the ground via vox and giving instructions from a distance. Lars couldn't shake the thought that Arthur would definitely hate this part of his job and was far more interested in being in the front line himself. Although Lars still didn't share his enthusiasm for 'busting up heretics' from close by, he most definitely shared the judge's presumed aversion of this kind of op.

 _'What the frak is going on out there, Akira?'_

"Willis, give me a sitrep." Lars asked, whispering in the vox unit. The hushed response came immediately. "We've just entered the estate of the Kagira family. It looks more like a fortress than a palace to be fair. Our troops are outnumbered two to one as far as I can see, but the opposition is carrying the same kind of firepower. No heavy weapons. I'm not too worried though boss. The man we're about to meet has just come into view and he looks like he's about to shit himself. Lady Niala is doing a fine job of intimidating the crap out of him." Lars could easily imagine such a thing. "Keep me posted. Lars out."

Lars tried to get a feel of the situation. The Mobutu spymaster had identified three houses that had had dealings with Rickerd. The first house, house Nairibo, was one of the most powerful clans in Hive Styx. The spymaster, a strangely unremarkable bald man named Pumbo Kitoko, had assured him that, even if they would meet on neutral ground, house Nairibo would have the means to turn it into a deathtrap. They just had too many assets, both troops as contacts, to deal with them. The second house wasn't a feasable option either. House Lumamba had close ties with the top brass of the enforcers. Neither Lars, nor Pumbo expected that they were involved in the earlier debacles, but it wouldn't do to confront the house only to face an outraged and possibly hostile enforcer corps. The third house, house Kagira, hadn't been an ideal candidate either, but seeing how they had run out of options, it was still their best bet. Lars hadn't liked it because the house had a reputation for meddling in all kinds of illegal activities. He felt that this house might be far too loyal to Rickerd and could be convinced by the man to do his dirty work. Pumbo had pointed out that there was no reason what so ever for Rickerd to suspect house Mobatu of foul play - except that house Mobatu had a reputation of serving the Emperor faithfully, Lars had riposted - and that even so, the leader of house Kagira, lord Nelson Kagira, was too weak a figure to withstand the full force of the Imperium. If it would come down to a choice, the man would chose the side of the law over Rickerd's side. Because of Nelson's dabbling in the underworld, he was already kept an eye on by the authorities and he knew he couldn't afford to draw even more attention to his sidelines. So in the end, Lars had given in and agreed to the operation.

"Niala is mounting the terras to shake hands with Nelson." Willis reporterd. Lars tried to sit up, but still his muscles wouldn't allow him to. He cursed, but immediately stopped when he heared the sweet but reserved voice of lady Niala. "Honoratus dominus Domus Kagira. Fiat pax opibus ac sanitatem esse comes tui. Benedictus domum nomini tuo et coram patribus vestris. Imperator sternet at futurum benevole..." The litany went on and on. Lars recognized certain words and understood that this was part of an extensive, formal greeting from one house to another. In high gothic of course.

 _'Frak, if they do business like this, you're worse of with them than with an Administratum clerk.'_

After a minute or two, lady Niala ended her formal greeting. But sure enough, lord Nelson Kagira didn't skip a beat and started his own litany of wishes and greetings to welcome lady Niala. In the meanwhile Lars tried to decide if this kind of high gothic phrasing was more boring to listen to than the binary blurts of the Rexon techpriests of old. He was just starting to fear that he wouldn't understand a word of the entire conversation, when Nelson's barrage of words stopped. Only moments later, Willis' channel crackled.

Willis voice came through the vox again. "It seems they are both pleased with their greeting. The man next to me just told me that this has been a surprisingly swift greeting ceremony. We're lucky they didn't start exchanging gifts apparently." Lars couldn't do much besides stating the obvous. "Keep your eyes open Willis. If this is out of the ordinary, it can only mean that Nelson is out of his routine." "Will do gov. Willis out."

Lars could hear how lady Niala started moving again, thanks to the rustling of her opulent robe. The lady had visited him before she left for the Kagira estate in his chamber. Lars had been baffled by the amount of cloth the woman could lift. Her robe stretched out behind her for at least two meters and the excessive amount of solid gold jewelry could only increase the difficulty to stay upright in the ceremonial gown. He had expressed his wonder about the bulkiness, before telling the lady how stunning she looked and yet again, lady Niala had shown how much she adored the natural an unaffected reactions of the arbite rewarding him with a silver but restrained laugh.

"So honorable lord Nelson. I trust your house is well?" Lars heard her ladyship saying. "But of course lady Niala. We are delighted that we might be of assistance." The voice of the Kagira noble had the same accent, seeing as both Niala and him hailed from Phlegethon, but it sounded a bit... fawning. Lady Niala's tone showed nothing of the sort, even if she was the one who had reached out to the Kagira Household to obtain something. "Yes. We are in your debt for hosting this union." Lord Nelson seemed ready to profit from this opportunity. "Perhaps we can talk about possible unions a bit more afterwards?" Nothing in her voice betrayed that Niala had no such intention at all. "I wouldn't be contrary to the idea, but I'm afraid my schedule won't allow it at the time. Perhaps you would be so good to visit us at the Mobatu Spire?" Lars could hear that Nelson was falling for it. "I would be honoured ro receive such an invitation. The reputation of your palace preceeds any member of house Mobatu. I will be..."

Lars listened to the rambling of the elderly man walking next to lady Niala. As far as he could determine, Nelson held the Mobatu house in high esteem and Niala did her best to affirm that opinion. After at least a quarter of an hour of chitchat and what Lars could only assume, was a lenghty walk to a private room, the voice of lord Nelson changed. Its pitch had gone up a notch and his phrases were no longer as brushed off as before. Clearly the man was nervous.

"Here we are my lady. I pray you to enter. However, you will need to leave your honour guard behind. I'm pleased to say that my own house guard will defend you as one of our own house." Lars cursed wholeheartedly. This was not a part of the plan. He switched to Willis' channel, but even before he could intervene, he got a sample of how lady Niala dealt with little nuisances such as this one. "I most certainly will not accept your friendly offer, honorable lord Nelson. Etiquette dictates that for a meeting with a third party, the visiting nobles are considered to bring their own honour guard." And whatever protest lord Nelson had been willing to bring up, was short lived as she cut through his 'but lady Niala' immediately. "I am very sorry lord Nelson, but I must insist on this. You and I are well aware that... Well, in pericolosum adiunctis, cautionem warrantatur." "Ah..." The nobleman was left with nothing and Lars positively beamed in his king sized bed. "Very well, honorable lady. Pardon me for this oversight. I will make amends immediately. It's just that the room I've prepared for this meeting isn't large enough for your honour guard." Lars could imagine how Niala graciously bowed. "I see. Well, let us compromise by reducing the number of members of my honour guard."

Lars activated the vox. "Willis, make sure you're in the room." "Ok gov." the simple acknowledgement followed. "What did she do to convince him by the way?" Lars asked. "I don't know gov. She just seemed to tower above him, reminding him of his place."

 _'What a woman, Akira. She is quite something else from what you're used to.'_

Lars could hear the men marching on and the rustling of lady Niala's garments betrayed that she walked with them. Then suddenly the line went dead.

"Willis, come in."

"Willis, do you copy?"  
*...*

"Frak!" Lars cursed and with an angry gesture, he turned the big knob of the vox set to switch to lady Niala's channel. He had refrained from talking to her to avoid any distractions, but now that he couldn't receive anything from Willis, he threw that concern out of the window. Whispering into the vox horn, Lars tried to contact lady Niala.

"Lady Niala. Please sigh if you copy."

"Lady Niala. This is Akira. Do you copy?"

"Frak. Frak. Frak!"

It appeared as if he lost all vox contact with his two operatives in the field. Lars wanted to curse in frustration, but he restrained himself to a last frak. He needed to do something. He needed to know what happened in the Kagira estate.

 _'Emperor, grant me your insight now. You need to get this machinespirit working again, Akira.'_

While he muttered a standard prayer to the machine spirit, Lars tried to reclaim contact with the two transmitters. If Nelson had discovered the ploy, he would have taken away the transmitters and shut them down. He could do nothing then. However, if something blocked the transmitters, Lars could try to reconfigure the vox unit to pick the signal back up.

As the minutes passed, Lars became more and more on edge. Whatever he tried, it didn't seem to work. The muttering of the prayers to the machine spirit became more and more riddled with curses and his movements more and more frantic. Taking another look on his standard issue chrono, he could see that almost ten minutes had passed now without any contact. Suddenly a vicious red light started blinking. It indicated that the battery of the vox pack was depleted and that it had gone to reserve. It was more than Lars' nerves could take. With a garbled cry of frustration, Lars hit the vox pack with his left fist.

"...ible, my lady Niala. You must confide in me. It is the only way." Lars heard lord Nelson speaking and before he could react to it, lady Niala's answer came through. "Then, I'm afraid, our collaboration is impossible." Lars switched back to Willis' channel and was welcomed by a hissed message. "Lars, come in. Lars, come in."

Both channels were available again, just as Lars wanted to ask forgiveness for his outburst. For a moment, Lars looked with a lot of skepticism at the vox unit and considered for a moment the attitude of the machine spirit housing in it. However, he had no time for a proper ritual of discipline.

Instead he answered Willis. "Willis, this is Akira. I'm receiving." The relief in the man's voice was obvious. "I couldn't call you, fragger. We were in a secured room. Things are spiralling out of control here." 'What happened?" Lars replied, immediately back on edge. Lars pressed the horn hard to his left ear so he could understand Willis' whispering. Apparently, lord Nelson hadn't been able to set up a meeting with Rickerd. The man wanted to act as a liaison between lady Niala and the smuggler. However, he hadn't counted on lady Niala's stubbornness. Willis told Lars that she had insisted and was now ready to leave the estate without any leads to the man.

 _'Frak. You need to step in, Akira.'_

The arbite switched to lady Niala's channel and wanted to intervene when he heard a new voice that interrupted lord Nelson. "I am really sorry you feel that way lady Niala. I am sure we can come to some kind of under..." "Quit your yapping Nelson. The lady is obviously not impressed by your feeble attempts to blow up your importance. Aristo Rickerd, my honorable lady. I understood that you had need of me." Lars exhaled slowly. They had what they were coming for. Lady Niala remained unperturbed and adressed the new arrival. "Yes. Mister Rickerd I presume." Rickerd's voice was soft and attractive. Quite a difference from lord Nelson's tone. "The same, my lady, the same. I'm sorry I left you with Nelson for such a long time. I knew he could be quite dull and I had no idea what kind of company I was missing. Luckily, I can now rectify that mistake."

A moment of silence fell and Lars imagined the blush on lord Nelson's face and the false smile of appeasement on lady Niala's. "You are most generous, mister Rickerd." she continued, "Although I didn't found lord Nelson as annoying as you, it seems." Nelson grabbed the opportunity with both hands and sounded vengeful. "Thank you, milady. Rickerd..." But apparently this wasn't enough to put Rickerd back in his place, quite the contrary. "Enough of you. The lady might be so good as to spare you, but I have no time for this nonsense. It is clear that she is both more vigorous and more intelligent than you." Lady Niala knew to keep the charade going and remained in her role. "You are not scoring any points by insulting one of my peers, mister Rickerd." Lars could hear how Rickerd adressed the noblewoman directly. "Your loyalty is to your credit, my honorable lady. However, your trust is misplaced." "Rickerd, I don't think..." Nelson protested in vain. "This worm was trying to put himself between us, trying to take a percentage on every trade we would do. I don't think something like that is profitable for you and me. Frankly, it is unacceptable that he would even think of something like that." Rickerd bit back and Lars thought he could swear he heard how someone gasped for air in shock. It definitely was not Niala. "Perhaps, mister Rickerd, but as I have understood: in this business one should look out for himself." "Definitely, my lady." confirmed the smuggler.

*Blam*

At that point, it seemed like all hell broke loose. Willis started cursing and Lars could hear how lady Niara started breathing heavily immediately. He was slightly reassured when he heard how she tried to find her words.

"Willis, update!" Lars commanded. "Nelson was just shot in the face. We're trying to form a cordon around Niala. The Kagira house guard is hesitating." Willis yelled back. Apparently the chaos in the Kagira spire palace was big enough to allow Willis to yell unhindered. "Get her out!" Lars reacted. Willis knew what to do. "Copy that."

Lars could hear how the Mobatu houseguard closed ranks around their leader. Faintly he could also hear orders being shouted, probably by the captain of the Kagira houseguard. But he definitely recognized the voice of Rickerd over the vox.

"We'll talk again soon, lady Niala. I'll come and find you."


	21. Chapter 21: Breakthrough

_+++5.226.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Mobatu Spire Palace+++_

Lars was peering once more at the dataslate with Arthur's message, when Willis arrived. Lars could see that in stead of commenting on it, Willis tried to ignore the now slightly damaged dataslate and just walked over to the immense bed, getting ready to report. This was only to be expected, Lars thought, as he had been very annoyed with the lack of progress and had been snibbish - to say the least - every time Willis had asked about his progress. This time, things had changed though. The fact that Pumbo had provided him with a dictionary high gothic - low gothic had helped. The fact that he had confided in Pumbo about the contents of the message, had helped even more.

When Willis arrived, Lars gave the man a big smile. "Back at last, eh?" Willis nodded and answered rather dourly. "Yes gov." "Everyone in one piece?" The arbite nodded again. "Yes gov." Lars looked up. This kind of responses weren't really what he had come to expect from his colleague. Willis' face betrayed a certain disappointment. "What's the matter Willis? It seems like you fulfilled your mission." Willis shrugged. "Perhaps gov, but we weren't able to apprehend Rickerd." "Your mission orders were to protect lady Niala." Lars replied, rather matter-of-factly. "But also to take in Rickerd." Willis argued, his bitterness now clear to see. "That was lady Niala's plan, yes. I grant you that. But let's be reasonable. Did you really expect to bring him in at a time and place of his choosing? I think you are underestimating our quarry." Lars tried to comfort his friend and colleague, but Willis persisted. "But we are running out of time gov." Lars smiled. Although he was still cloistered to this ridiculous bed, he finally felt they were making progress.

Curious, Willis asked. "What is it gov?" Lars could hear the beginning of hope in Willis' voice. He didn't try to hide his own. "I think I've been able to crack this _förbannad_ code. Or at least parts of it." Lars declared to Willis' surprise. "How did you do that gov? You were stuck for more than a week." Now Lars shrugged. He wasn't particularly happy with the way in which he had gotten his results, but it was like Arthur said: 'You can't argue with results. One bashed in skull, is a dead heretic. And every dead heretic is a step to a safer Imperium.' "I took up on lady Niala's offer of using Pumbo." Lars confessed. "And..." Willis asked, getting a bit more enthusiastic. "Apparently, the man could pick out the names from the message. Something about the way the words had been written. With his knowledge of high gothic, he also managed to bring some more order to the text. This is what we have found out."

Lars selected another dossier on the dataslate and handed the instrument with the cracked screen, to Willis. Willis took the slate and cracked off a joke. "This must be good news. I see that the poor machine spirit of the slate has taken no further damage." Lars rolled his eyes, but he wasn't really annoyed. His good mood because of his better understanding of the contents of the message wouldn't be disturbed by a friendly sting of his partner. "Just read the dossier Willis. Spare me your japes." Willis fell silent. This could be a major breakthrough and both men had longed for it.

"Here you see the list of names Pumbo picked up on. This Duqercu chap. In fact it is the commander general of the local PDF. As far as Pumbo can read this crap, it is he who is responsible for the crash of the _Menapi Volantis_." Willis frowned. "That doesn't make much sense gov. How would a PDF general influence a Navy ship?" Lars nodded, showing Willis that he had though the same thing. "We're not sure yet, but if someone would be able to hide, or Emperor forbid, use a virus bomb, this frakker is a prime candidate." Willis scrolled down the text. "Ok, what else have you found?" Lars stretched his arm and pointed at another name. "Well, this one here. Mbokani. Pumbo reckons it's one of the chief administrators of hive Styx." Willis looked up from the slate. "So the Administratum is also in the picture?" Lars shrugged. "At this point, I'd say everyone is in the picture. Take a look at the next name." Willis eyes went wide with surprise. "The honorable bishop Desmond Kumu?" Lars was a faithful man, but he would value Arthur's information over anyone's reputation. "You can read, can't you?" He asked. "And you're sure they are all guilty? Not just mentioned as background?" Willis tried. "Well, each and every one of them had the nomen of traitoris connected with them. I've not been able to verify this, not even in the text itself. Even with this," Lars pointed to the dictionary. "I don't understand the grammar in that load of _skit_ "

Willis continued to run through the dossier. Lars laid back and relaxed his strained muscles. Pumbo had ordered a servant to install a handle above his bed so Lars could use the combined strength of both his arms, or what was left of it anyway, to sit up. "Making progress on that too, gov?" With a small nod of his head, Willis indicated the handle. "Not really Willis, not really. It's just another clever trick of Pumbo. You know. This man is a jewel to lady Niala's crown. I wonder if we could recruit him." Willis laughed. "I'm sure lady Niala wouldn't mind." Lars shook his head in denial. "Myeah. I don't think so... Let's just focus on this, shall we?"

Willis continued to scroll down and Lars dozed off a bit. The excitement from the breakthrough was ebbing away and the worries about his recovery were taking over. However, Lars didn't linger off too long, as Willis suddenly cursed. And then cursed some more. "What is it Willis? Speak up man." Lars said, wide awake again. "This name gov. This frakking name." Willis pointed at one of the dozens of names in the file. "What name?" Lars asked, peering at the text on the green lit dataslate. "Here!" Willis handed the slate back to Lars. He had selected the name of Paul Mpoku. "Yes, what about him?" Lars asked, "He's supposed to be a small fish. Possibly an asset to us, if Pumbo interpreted it correctly." Willis looked at Lars dead serious. "Paul Mpoku is one of the aliases of Rickerd, gov." Lars laid down the dataslate and looked at the other arbite, questioning. "Hold on. What are you saying?" "I'm saying that if Pumbo is correct..." Willis started. "... Rickerd is one of ours." Lars finished.

Although the fact that Rickerd might be an asset came as a complete surprise, the two arbite regained their wits quite fast. "It would certainly explain how he thought it possible to kill off a patriarch of one of the leading noble families. Without fearing repercussions." offered Willis. "Maybe. It would most definitely be a good explanation how he managed to build up his little imperium in such a short time. Empires, even criminal ones, aren't built in a day." Lars muzed. "Frak. So what now gov?" Willis asked, feeling excited now they had a whole new angle on the case. "First things first." Lars replied, "We need to confirm this information. Don't forget we are basing it all on a garbled, warpriddled message. I don't know about you, but I trust this thing as much as I am able to translate it in the first place. Which is _allra minst_." Willis sat down on the bed - there was plenty of space anyway - and stared out in the distance of the enormous bedroom. "We can just go find him and ask it, can we gov?" Lars prodded him with his leg. "Don't be so thick Willis. I hate it when you play dumb." "Ok, gov. Serious then, how can we verify the information? We don't even know where Arthur got it in the first place. If it had been an operative of his, Frank would have told us. Warp, we wouldn't even been sent out here to this frakking ball of acid." Willis raised his hands questioning. "You've got a good point Willis. We're not equipped to do this. But Pumbo has shown that he has a more than decent network. And he seems to know how to run it. Maybe his network extends to..." Willis turned to Lars, with a look of mild disbelief. "You want to use him again? He isn't even sworn in as an officer of the enforcers. It's a civilian, gov. How can you put so much trust in him?" Lars smiled. It was a classic reaction from a decent and well bred law enforcer. "I used to be a civvie too Willis. Remember?" Willis made a throw away gesture with both hands. "You know what I mean gov. That's different." Lars wasn't impressed. "Oh really? ..."

Before Willis could bring up another argument, Lars raised his hands, signalling that he didn't doubt Willis' good intentions. "Walther, I'm well aware that we're putting our fate in the hands of someone we hardly know. But considering the fact that until now, he hasn't led us astray and the fact that we don't seem to be enjoying a whole lot of options, I'm afraid it's a bet we need to take." Willis wanted to intervene again, but again, Lars raised his hands. "I'm also well aware that we're connecting all our servitors to one cogitator. It is he who pointed out the fact that Rickerd might be a covert operative. And it will be him again that will find intel to corroborate the story. But, can you think of any alternatives to get out of this shitty situation?" Lars pauzed for a second, giving Willis the time to think.

"Well?" he asked his younger colleague after half a minute. "... No gov. It appears I can't... But I don't have to like it!" Willis replied, scowling. Lars bursted out. "You think I'm enjoying myself? Being in this blasted bed, just watching from the sideline how things play out? You don't think I would like to have the full staff of the _Spear of Justice_ at my side? I'm frakking eating myself up in here, you know! It is nerve wrecking to be on this side of the vox! Not being able to be in the field myself, it's the frakking worst! So, we don't like it, but we'll have to deal with it." Lars calmed down after his outburst. Seeing Willis' face, he knew he had been once more, way to harsh with his colleague. The man had only expressed a doubt.

 _'Curse you Akira. If you start acting like this, he should be in command, not you.'_

Willis remained silent. Lars cleared his throat. "Look here Walther. You're absolutely right with your doubts. So we'll have to check the new intel as well as we can, ok?" The other man nodded silently. "Right gov." Lars could see Willis had resigned himself. But there was also a look of disappointment on his face."Don't give me that 'right gov' crap, Willis. We've been through too much lately for that kind of _skit_." "Right." Willis answered, rather uninspired. It was enough of a cue for Lars to make another effort. "Forget for a moment that I'm your superior Willis... If you were in control, what would you do?" Willis didn't reply immediately. Instead he thought about it and formulated his own suggestion carefully. "Well... I might just try to seek out Mpoku in person. If he is an asset there has to be a way to contact him, showing we're on the same side." "But." Lars interrupted, helping the man to finish his thoughts. "But, that means we need intel on his alias." Lars made sure he didn't sound thriumphant, when he gave his own conclusion. "Which we can't obtain without help."

Willis shrugged and stood up from the bed. "... Yeah. It's a frakked up situation." "Tell me about it. However, let's try to limit the risks. I'll hand you over to Pumbo so you can oversee each and every one of his moves. That should at least limit the possibilities for the man to scam us, no?" That suggestion seemed to at least fall on fertile ground as Willis nodded a bit more convinced. "Right, gov." This time Lars could hear conviction in Willis' voice. Lars smiled and sent the man on his way. "This is good news Willis. If Rickerd is an ally, we should be a whole lot closer to the recovery of the bomb. The Emperor provides." Both men made the sign of the Aquila and continued their duty to the Lex Imperialis.

* * *

 _+++5.235.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Mobatu Spire Palace+++_

"So, you're ready to do this gov?" Willis asked and Lars could hear that the man was nervous. He looked to the right where Willis was sitting. He was strapped into the chair of the black ground car lady Niala had provided them with. It was a type he hadn't seen before, but it was one of the more classic Cadyloc-pattern cars that were used commonly by all manners of rich noblemen, high-ranking members of the Ecclesiarchy or senior officers of the Adeptus Administratum. The two arbites had taken place in the two seats in the front, leaving the rest of the car empty. The exquisite leather creaked under the weight of the men and their flak armour. At least Lars could sit upright in the car. It had taken two of the more burly house guards to get him into the low carseat. "Ready as I'll ever hope to be, Willis. Let's do it." Lars said, his grim determination an adequate answer to Willis' doubts.

Willis fired up the engine and took off, through the 5 metre wide garage gate of the Mobatu estate. Both men remained silent. The first one because he was focused on finding his way to the meeting point, a few kilometres towards the bottom of hive Styx, the other one was just lost in his thoughts.

Pumbo had followed up on the lead of the Mpoku alias, albeit with Willis at his side. Mpoku appeared to be some sort of middleman that connected various shady figures from the underhive with some more shady figures from the middle hive. From the fieldwork Willis had done, they had learned that Mpoku could very well be an alias of Rickerd. Their intel showed that Mpoku was only available during very specific and short timeframes. Ideal for someone who has multiple roles to play. Thanks to Pumbo's network, the men had also managed to uncover a pattern in the dealings of Mpoku on the one hand and some of the more effective raids by the local enforcers. It was quite subtle and it was only due to the fact that the arbites suspected the local enforcer corps of corruption that they fell over it. Willis had argued that it was one more reason to believe that Rickerd was an asset. It would definitely explain how he had such influence with the local enforcers. If he had good contacts with the brass, sustained by useful information, it would explain how he received himself inside information and support of the corps.

Lars replayed the conversation they had had after discovering all this in his head. They had been in the Mobatu state room after a copious dinner. The two arbites had joined lady Niala and Pumbo for the evening to make a plan to finish the operation. After all, according to their information, it was still Rickerd who possessed the virus bomb and in the end the mission objective remained to recover them all.

"So Regulator Akira. What is your next step?" lady Niara had opened the debate. "Well. Since Rickerd hasn't made contact with you since his performance at the Kagira estate, I think it is time we make another move. But before we take such actions, I'd like to go over the facts once more." Lars had activated his dataslate and selected the dossier he had compiled. He had raised his hand and lifted one finger, starting with his summary.

"Primo, the _Menapi Volantis_ has crashed on Phlegethon, probably with the help of various high ranking officials of Hive Styx. Secundo, after the crash, we found Errendis Clémenceau aboard of the ship, who had taken control of the payload, except for one of the bombs. Clémenceau has been identified as a henchman of Aristo Rickerd. So, if our information is correct and Clémenceau hasn't hoodwinked us, Rickerd is the most likely candidate to possess the last virus bomb. Tertio, we've received information from judge Belloran that Paul Mpoku is an asset of the Imperial forces. However, this Paul Mpoku is an alias of Aristo Rickerd, which could mean two things. Either Rickerd himself is an asset and we must assume that his interventions - using Clémenceau, setting a trap for Willis with help of the enforcers, perhaps even killing lord Nelson - are to the benefit of the Imperium. Or, he's a two timing bastard that has managed to infiltrate in our network."

The three other diner guests had listened carefully, but it was lady Niala who was the first to respond. "Lars, do you believe it possible that an attempt on young man Willis here, could actually be condoned, let alone orchestrated by an Imperial agent?" lady Niala had asked, a bit shocked by the suggestion itself. "My lady, I've witnessed stranger things in the Imperium. I wouldn't dismiss it off hand." Lars had replied rather deadpan. With a look of surprise, Niala had looked at Pumbo. "I knew that among nobles rivalry and deceit were common, but between the different agencies of the Imperium?" At that point Pumbo had intervened. "I'm afraid mistress Niala, that such practices are also to be found among loyal servants of the Imperium. Although one might remark the following difference between the nobles and the Imperial servants. Where the nobles are always driven by ambition, the loyal servants of the Emperor are mostly driven by their urge to defend and better His empire."

Lars had frowned, but had let it slide. He could testify that different agents might have different opinions on how the Imperium would benefit from something. The fact that Willis and he had been in the line of fire due to the manoeuvres of another Imperial agent didn't shock him as much as lady Niala. Even though he hadn't served for very long, he distinctly remembered the interruption and even abortion of his investigation by the Inquisition. Lady Niala had the balls and the intellect to play the game, but she was still very inexperienced.

"So if I understand correctly, the next step is to start communications with our ally Rickerd, or expose him as a throneforsaken traitor and dispose of the dog." The noblewoman had concluded. Lars had laughed at lady Niala's simple analysis. This woman was as direct as a powerfist to the face if she wanted to be. "Indeed" he had replied, "It's as simple as that. I'm open to suggestions for a practical way to achieve this." Now, Willis had been the first to offer a solution. "I say we head over to Mpoku's hideout and storm the place. If his cover is any good, he won't have fortified the position and although a few bodyguards could be present, it's nothing we can't take care of if we might further make use of your houseguard lady Niala." Lady Niala nodded. "They are at your disposal arbites."

Pumbo had coughed and poured some extra recaf in his cup. Before the man could eloquently inform Willis of his doubts, Lars had stepped in. "We do that and we put the spotlight on him. If he really is a loyal agent, it wouldn't do to destroy his cover like that. I think we need something a bit more subtle." And after slurping from the hot recaf, Pumbo had offered his suggestion.

"Since you," the man had pointed to the two arbites, "don't have a decent cover. And you, my mistress, wouldn't be a plausible candidate for dealings with someone as lowly born as Mpoku, it seems we need us a middleman of our own. I'm pleased to inform you that I have just the man to play such a role. I've known him for a very long time, so I'm pretty sure we can trust him. However, we'll need some extra funds to set something up. Someone like Rickerd wouldn't compromise his alias for nothing." Lady Niala put her cup on the saucer. "The funding is none of your worries, arbites." Lars gave her a polite, little bow. "Again, you are too kind, lady Niala. It's settled then. Pumbo, you use your network to set up a meeting with Mpoku. Since it will be a new contact, we might persuade him to head over to neutral ground. Personally, I believe he's an agent. There are too many counterindications for him just being a crime lord. Nevertheless, I'd like to secure the meeting place with troops of your house guard, my lady. We'll have to put them in other uniforms for them not to stick out too much, but I'm sure they'll do well. Then, Willis and I, accompagnied by your contact Pumbo, will seek out Rickerd and confront him."

At that point, Willis stopped the car and behind them they could hear the door of the Cadyloc opening and closing. "Let's drive." came the raw and hoarse voice of the elderly man Pumbo had introduced earlier as mister Maud.


	22. Chapter 22: Showdown

_+++5.235.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, level gamma-78, Saint Gertrude chapel+++_

They arrived at the chapel without delay. Lars knew three squads of Mobatu troops where hidden around the small square before the chapel, however, he couldn't spot them. While they waited in the car, Lars checked in by vox. "Lieutenant, have you heard back from all your men? All conditions green?" Lars asked. The response of the Mobatu officer came immediately. "Affirmative, regulator. They have checked in only two minutes ago." Lars looked over at Willis. Both men thought the same. "Please check them again."

They waited in silence, until the rasping voice of mister Maud broke the silence. "You don't trust this fether, do you arbite?" Lars looked in the rear view mirror. "No, mister Maud. I don't." The other man scowled. "Feth." Now Lars turned around, wringing his protesting body against the car seat. His question remained unspoken, but Maud was smart enough to know what the regulator was hinting at. "It blows that I'm here with you then. Pumbo told me that it was all right, but here you are, checking in with your soldiers, packed with armour and guns." Lars smiled. "You rather have us come here without the soldiers or the armour?" The other man shrugged, pretending not to be too nervous about it. "Good thing I'm getting paid for this crap." Lars just wanted to reply when the vox crackled. "Regulator, all teams report in. Nothing happening at all." Lars and Willis exchanged a short look of relief, before Lars responded. "Let's keep it that way, lieutenant. You've got my frequency if something does happen. Akira out."

The next ten minutes the men remained silent. Outside it started to drizzle, the small acid raindrops were the only thing disturbing the silence. Suddenly another car drove onto the square. Just like their own Cadyloc it was a bit of out of place on this level of the hive. It wasn't that groundcars weren't to be found around here, but the mark and quality made the distinction quite clear. "Hold on to your nickers, fethers. It's about to go down." Maud whispered. Lars looked behind once more. "We ain't your average enforcer Maud. Just make sure you get him to talk. We'll manage the rest." Lars shot off a look to his side where Willis was holding the steering wheel firmly. From the outside he seemed to remain his cool, but Lars could see how his fingers had whitened due to the pressure he put on the wheel. He wanted to reassure his colleague, but with Maud at the back, it wouldn't really do.

 _'Just keep your cool Willis. Just forget for a moment this frakker organized a hit on you.'_

The other car drove towards them head first, the yellow head lights blinding the enforcers had it not been for the reflective coating of the windows of the armoured Cadyloc. From the other car a figure emerged, dressed in a black parka, proving that the man had enough money to protect himself from the rain. Lars had been told by Pumbo that even with this low amount of acid, over time, one would get scarred quite badly. Getting caught outside in a rainstorm could very well mean the end of you if you weren't carrying proper protection.

 _'Frakking caustic, skit planet.'_

The man outside was, quite obviously, checking his surroundings and Lars turned to Willis that was doing the same with a compact set of magnoculars. "No sign of our backup I hope?" Lars asked, whispering. "None gov." Willis replied with a monotone voice. Still, Lars heard how the man was utterly on edge. "Good." he said, giving the man a soft pad on the shoulder, trying to reassure him. Apparently the man outside came to the same conclusion and turned to the passenger compartment of the car. He unfolded some sort of rain screen and opened the passenger's door. Lars pinched his eyes to discern the face of the passenger.

"I think it could be him Willis." Lars said, still hesitating, which didn't sit well with their passenger. "Of course it's him fether. You think mister Maud doesn't get results?" Willis lashed out at that, his nerves getting the better of him. "Shut it frakker. This one would outsmart you any day of the week." Maud hissed indignated. "Feth. Who do you think you are partner? Dissing mister Maud like that. If I hadn't been paid, man, would I..." Lars interrupted the two men's bickering. "He's coming over Maud. Get ready to open your door." Angrily, the man moved over to the car port. "Sure fethers."

Lars ignored the cursing and followed the two figures as they walked the ten metres that separated the two vehicles. He could see how the man under the screen moved casually, easily, as if the lumbering bodyguard beside him didn't had to struggle to keep the screen centered above his head. He also tried to figure out what arms the man had on him. Rickerd wore a heavy trenchcoat, but it wasn't closed at the front. Still Lars couldn't see any display of weapons at his belt.

 _'But that doesn't mean he's unarmed, Akira. There are still plenty of places where he could stash something.'_

*Click* Maud unlocked the door and pushed it open. Next he shoved to the left so that their visitor could enter. The bodyguard doubled his efforts to keep his master dry and sure enough, Rickerd stepped in the car. He dismissed the bodyguard with a small dismissive sign of his hand and they all could hear how the door was slammed shut.

 _'This is one self-assured frakker, Akira. Or he already knows who we are and why we're here.'_

Mister Maud cut to the chase immediately. "Mister Mpoku I presume? Mister Maud. Nice to meet you." The other man grumbled a bit. 'I wouldn't say that. We're not sure we can do business, can we?" Mister Maud gave Rickerd a wide and utterly insincere smile. "Let me reassure you. I think you will definitely want to do business with us." Lars followed the conversation in the rear view mirror and had to supress a sigh. Rickerd responded to Maud's attempt to court him with a dangerous little laugh. "So, you're not a lone player then. Who are you representing?" Mister Maud on the other hand, didn't seem to notice that he was being played. With as much amplomb as he could muster, he answered. "Friends from high places, mister Mpoku." "And what do these friends want?" Rickerd continued.

Maud scraped his throat and bent over to retrieve his briefcase. Without rushing he retrieved Lars' damaged dataslate. While he activated the machine spirit and made it open a file, Lars could see how Maud kept an eye on Mpoku. However, while Maud was busy with the slate, Rickerd turned his attention to the two men in the front of the car. "You." he nodded to Willis, "Didn't we have the pleasure of meeting?" Willis didn't turn around but gave Rickerd a dismissive shrug. Lars ached his neck to see how Rickerd would react. "No, I'm pretty sure I've seen your face before. Now where could that have been?" the man persisted.

Lars noticed how Maud was getting nervous. His facade was already crumbling and anyone with a bit of skill in the area of observation could see that his movements were a bit too fast as if he tried to hurry his way through this meeting. Furthermore, his breathing had sped up. Willis turned around and gave Rickerd a dumb look. "Whaz aretu porling, ceunnard? I'm tur father or whaz?" It was a good thing Lars was strapped in, because he was taken by surprise by Willis' faultless low hive dialect. He must have picked it up during his work here. Lars checked the mirror once more, anticipating a violent ending to the conversation, even with Willis' perfect imitation of a low hive ganger.

Rickerd leaned back. He gave Willis a long stare, but then Maud stepped in again, handing the dataslate to Rickerd. The man seemed to relax and fell back into the leather seat. He kept his eyes on Willis for a moment longer, but accepted the dataslate. "I have been told by a little rat that you might provide us with this." Maud pointed to the file on the dataslate. Finally, Rickerd averted his eyes and directed his attention to the screen. The gloom of the slate lit up Rickerd's face and Lars could now see the scars and wrinkles on the man's face. He tried to find signs of his true allegiance, but a man that had build this kind of cover, wouldn't be showing those. For Lars it still remained a question whether the man in the back of the car, at ease in the confined space with three possible enemies sitting around him, was an ally or an enemy.

"Mmyees. I might have seen such a thing. But I can't promise you anything. Besides, it will take quite a lot of gelt to obtain this item. I presume you have some sort of proof that you have enough funds to back your order?" Maud's face whitened, Lars could see. The man wrung his hands together and remained silent for a second.

 _'Frak, Akira. The bugger didn't anticipate this.'_

"Mister Mpoku. Surely you understand that taking such a token to this environment would be a risk." Maud tried to correct himself. "I understand completely mister Maud. We can arrange for a second meeting where you can convince me of your buyer's financial foundation." Rickerd said languidly, making it seem like he was letting his counterpart of the hook. Mister Maud accepted this out eagerly. "Ah, but of course mister Mpoku. Of course." "Speaking of your buyers." Rickerd continued, "If they are looking to buy this, I'll need some more information on them. You realise the men I work for, don't just hand such things out without some kind of assurance the thing won't bite them in the ass. One could cause a lot of harm with it. And a lot of collateral." Maud took over the dataslate from Rickerd and nodded enthusiastically. "You can assure your connection, mister Mpoku. This item will be shipped off. It won't stay on Phlegethon any longer than necessary."

Rickerd looked out of the car window, checking his surroundings once more. Lars tensed, but the supposed arbite turned back to Maud who was still fumbling with the dataslate. "I'm afraid you're underestimating my supplier, mister Maud. They have assets all over the subsector. I'm afraid I'll need some names." This seemed to finally draw the attention of Maud on his relationship with Rickerd. He dropped the dataslate in his briefcase and sat up. Anyone could see that Maud was reevaluating the conversation with a bit more caution now. "Ah, but mister Mpoku. Surely you cannot expect me to give you their names any more than you would give your supplier's name to me? We'll have to work something out to prevent damages to..."

Suddenly, Rickerd grabbed Maud's arm with his left hand, followed swiftly by a punch in Maud's face with the right. A cry of pain erupted from Maud's mouth. At the same time, Willis pulled his weapon, but he stopped his movement halfway. "Steady, my friend, steady. You have a fine accent, but I've got myself a good memory for faces. You were part of the house guard of lady Niala, weren't you?" Rickerd asked, keeping Maud's head in a deadlock. Maud made some groaning noises and Rickerd punched him again. "Stop squirming you worm. I can off you any time so keep still."

At that point, Lars could see what Willis had seen just before he had stopped pulling his gun. It wasn't very clear in the shadows of the black interior of the car, but with his left thumb Rickerd pushed a silver ring in Maud's arm. The fabric of Maud's vest had been ripped and Lars thought he could see a small drop of blood on Maud's skin.

Rickerd looked at Willis. "Why don't you throw that gun towards me, fether. I think we have a lot to talk about." The two men had recognized the ring as a very small, but potentially very lethal weapon. Lars suspected it had a tiny reservoir with a potent drug stored inside. Definitely enough to drop Maud in an instant. Someone with those means, would definitely have a back-up plan to dispatch of the two of them. And Lars couldn't bring much to the fight. Although he was armed, he could barely lift the pistol, let alone get into a fight in these close quarters. Rickerd would turn his gun on him in an instant.

"You. Throw your gun back here!" Rickerd yelled at Willis. As Willis' pistol fell at Rickerd's feet, the man made Lars' reasoning moot. "And now you too partner!" Willis slowly reached over to grab Lars' pistol. "What do you think you're doing? You need to hold his saucage too?" Rickerd jabbed. Willis froze and looked behind at Rickerd. "He isn't able to use it, man." Rickerd laughed out loud. "You're trying to be funny or what? Ok, go ahead. Grab it... Gently." Willis continued his movement and unclasped the holster at Lars' side, sliding out the pugnatis-pattern pistol and throwing it over to the back seat.

"Now tell me fether, what is this crap about you not being able to handle your gun? What kind of bodyguard are you supposed to be?" Rickerd asked Lars, making eye contact via the mirror. Lars barely managed to remain dignified. "Let's just say, I'm the eyes and brains of mister Maud's security." Rickerd tightened his grip on mister Maud's head and gave him a look dripping with sarcasm. "What? You expect me to believe that crap?" "Believe what you want. A man like you would know how important it is to keep sight of everything." Lars replied, desperately thinking about ways to turn this situation around. "Right..." Rickerd snickered. Until he saw the small microbead in Lars' right ear. "Ok fether. Do they know that shit has hit the fan?" "Not yet." Lars answered as he despaired that yet another of his means to handle Rickerd was now taken out of the game. "Then let's keep it that way. Report in that everything is going according to plan."

Lars activated the vox. "Be careful what you say there oddball." Rickerd warned, "Mister Maud's continued existence is on the line here." Lars looked away and stared in the distance, but complied. "Lieutenant. All is well here, but keep on the lookout for trouble. I'll keep you posted." Rickerd nodded with a vile smile. "Well done chump... Now we need to have a little talk, mister Maud. Tell me who sent you here. Who is your master?" Maud was sweating heavily and tried to make eye contact with the arbites, but Willis and Lars were both looking straight ahead. He coughed nervously and scraped his throat. "That would be mistress Niala of house Mobatu." "Really?" Rickerd pauzed, letting the tension build. "That's one answer I'll believe. Now tell me. Why is the bitch so impatient? I promised her that I would come by. Your buddy over there can confirm it. She didn't think I would be true to my word?"

Apparently, Rickerd didn't even try to keep true to his alias by now. "I don't know, man. She doesn't tell me... Aaaah!" Rickerd hit Maud with his right hand again. And hit him once more. Lars could see in the mirror how Maud's head snapped back. When he sat back up, he was bleeding from his mouth and nose and coughing violently, only to spit out a tooth shortly after. "That won't do, mister Maud. It just... won't... do..." But Maud had nothing left to give. "I sssswear, Mpoku. I sssswear." But that just wasn't enough for Rickerd. He hit Maud once more, violently, right behind his ear. Another scream of pain followed. And the question too. Even if he would have had the answer, Lars doubted that Maud could have given the answer, as the beating continued. Until the man finally passed out.

"You two are some lousy bodyguards. I might have clubbed your man to death here, and what did you do? Nothing!" Rickerd yelled, his frustration about his lack of aswers clearly ringing through the words. Under the insult, Lars could see that Rickerd wasn't as self-assured as before. Of course, something wasn't right. Maud hadn't got a good reason to hold the information from Rickerd, especially when being beaten up like that, and Rickerd knew that. And what did you have to think of a lame bodyguard on duty?

"It seems like you didn't found what you were looking for, mister Mpoku." Lars said. Rickerd looked in the mirror and made eye contact with Lars. "That's a BS-52 if I ever seen one." the arbite continued. He could practically feel how Willis froze in his seat. He also saw that Rickerd squinted at him. "What?" the man in the back whispered, "Just what did you say?" Lars kept his voice level and didn't look away this time. "You've worked your way into a BS-52. I hope you're equipped for that."

Willis and Lars knew what a BS-52 would be, just like any other arbite would. When an interrogation hit a wall and you had to revert to a chastener, normally you needed a BS-52 form for approval. It was standard procedure throughout the sector.

"Who the feth are you, boy?" Rickerd asked threateningly. Lars replied with a thin smile. "I think it's time, you started to answer some questions. See that little bump at your feet? Let's say you've got an explosive situation on your hands. Or feet. Hehe." It was Lars' last trick and by the looks of it, Rickerd was buying it, going by the nervous look at the floor. "What a load of crap, fether. Like you'd survive a frag grenade." Now, Lars made his voice sound smug. "You need to be a bit more choosy when you pick a seat, frakker. These things, we're sitting in, are armoured. You can bet your ass that the plasteel in these things is thick enough to protect us." Rickerd angrily pushed away Maud's body and raised his hands violently. "Cut the crap, man. If I understand correctly, we're on the same side."

At that point Willis stepped in. He had known about the ambush, but wasn't sure how things would play out. The original plan had been to see whether Rickerd would proclaim to be part of the Imperial forces in interrogating Maud. Perhaps taking the bait to see whether house Mobatu was tainted. Seeing as he hadn't done that, and kept his potential charade as crime lord going, the two men had had to improvise. "Seeing as we're supposed to be on the same side, perhaps you might explain why your men tried to off me? Better make it a good reason." Anyone could hear the anger in Willis' tone, but it didn't impress Rickerd. "Argh, you fether! How would I have known you were one of us? Granted, I knew that someone was poking his big fat nose in my business, but Warp if I knew that you used house Mobatu as a cover."

Lars grunted as he made the painful effort to turn to face Rickerd directly. "Just a second. Before you go all proclaiming that you're one of us. Perhaps you could give us some kind of proof..." Rickerd started protesting, and only logically so, Lars thought. "I know, I know. You don't have your badge on you, but you'll need to produce something my friend. Otherwise, it would seem like you're a, perhaps gifted, crime lord with a lot of enforcers on the payroll."

The man across sighed. "Fine. Have it your way." He took off his trenchcoat and rolled up the sleeve of his jacket to reveal his right arm. With the ring on his left hand, he made a small cut into his flesh, just above the wrist. From the cut Rickerd retrieved a tiny data card. In the card, the symbol of the Adeptus Arbites was accurately etched and filled up with gold. He handed the bloody little chip over to Willis, followed by the dataslate that was spattered with Maud's blood. Willis cleaned them both and slid the card into the slate. In the meanwhile, Rickerd remained silent, staring through the windscreen, putting pressure on his small wound to stop the bleeding.

On the screen of the dataslate a document opened. Lars and Willis started to read.

'By the authority of judge Miroslav Khane and the Holy Emperor, Eliott Wess, holding the rank of regulator in the Adeptus Arbites, is permitted to investigate and judge all members of all Imperial departments of Hive Styx (Plegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus). He is licenced to perform any action, be it raid, search, requisition, interrogation ...'

The list went on and on, so Lars scrolled to the bottom where an addendum could be found.

'Let it be known that Eliott Wess will be performing this mission undercover. He is pardoned for any and all crimes under chapters A, B, F and G of the Imperial penal code. He is pardoned for any and all infrictions on Arbites regulations, chapters III, VII and XI (with the exception of XI.5.2 and XI.7.3 bis). Furthermore, he is entitled to raise funding by entering illicit activities (except categories D and E) to execute his mission.'

As the two arbites came to the end of the document, Eliott Wess handed over the two pistols that laid at his feet. "So, if you would do me the favour of presenting yourselves? Perhaps we might even avert an absolute intradepartemental fiasco."


	23. Chapter 23: Underhive rustle

_+++5.236.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Mobatu Spire Palace+++_

The arbites, Pumbo and lady Niala were reunited in the Mobatu library, sharing a glass of amasec, or in the case of lady Niala, a flute of brindy, which was a lot sweeter and far more exquisite, even though the amasec was of a quality Lars had never experienced, not even in Arthur's chambers. They had been discussing the merits of a career with the Adeptus Arbites versus a career in the Navy and it had become clear that Pumbo, although never employed by the Arbites, nor by the Navy, had been in the company of representatives of both organisations more than once. For Lars, the man remained a bit of a mystery.

Lars finished his glass and put it on the table. Pumbo reached for the decanter to refill it, but Lars held his hand above his glass. "It's time we discuss our options in light of our new found knowledge." Immediately the sphere turned sober and the smiles on the faces of Lars' companions faded away. Quickly he went over the facts again, ignoring Pumbo's remark on the damage he had done to his network, letting mister Maud being beaten up. "So it seems we've come to the end of our investigation. The Adeptus Mechanicus is busy recovering the cargo of the _Menapi Volantis_ and we've tracked down the last of the missing bombs. I can't say I'm very happy about the fact that we need to leave it in the hands of Eliott, but on the other hand I'm glad we didn't ruin his investigation. So it seems our work here is done." Lars concluded.

It was an outcome they should actually be happy with, but they all had felt a sting of disappointment after the confrontation at the chapel. The case remained open in a way, without the weapon brought back under Naval control. And it had taken all of Lars' skill to convince lady Niala that the investigation to find the true responsible behind the crash of the _Menapi Volantis_ was in good hands with Wess. Lars suspected that lady Niala's disappointment also came from the fact that she was condemned to her days of splendid isolation... and boredom. It was clear to everybody around the table that, although it had put her House and her person at risk, lady Niala had enjoyed the time with the arbites.

"I still think you should push Wess to assist him on this investigation." she said. Lars smiled apologeticly. "My lady Niala. Eliott has maintained his cover for more than ten years. He has lived among the scum of Hive Styx for a decade, accepting the same living conditions as ordinary hive gangers... He also had to compromise, time and again, to maintain his cover. I wouldn't want to know all the dilemma's he has faced. On the one hand his principles as an Emperor loving man and on the other hand the demands of his mission. Ten years of internal conflict. And ten years to get a hold of your quarry. Really, in view of such a display of duty, I couldn't bring myself to force myself in his op. Besides, it could endanger his plans. It has been an immense sacrifice. I don't think I would be up to it. And to close the argument: it's no longer our jurisdiction." Clearly, lady Niala wasn't convinced. "What do you mean? Is it not your duty to do the Emperor's work wherever you are?"

At that point one of the Mobatu housekeepers, clad in the blue and silver uniform of the house, entered the room and beckoned Pumbo to the door. The bald man rose up from his chair and bowed for his mistress. In the meanwhile, Willis responded to lady Niala's question. "Every loyal citizen would share your opinion, my lady. However, it is not as simple as that. The Imperium is a well oiled machine but it only functions properly if everybody does the job he is assigned to. Can you imagine what would happen if the Ecclesiarchy would be called up to bring the fight to the Xeno? Or the Adeptus Mechanicus to rule over a hive? Lars and me are part of the Adeptus Arbites, so granted, it would seem logical to aid in this operation. But even though we are perhaps one of the less populous of all the branches of the Imperial contingents, we too are organized so that each has his jurisdiction. Lars and I fall under the command of judge Belloran, who is responsable for the security of the fleets in the Askellon sector. It is judge Khane who is responsible for the security of hive Styx." Lars could see that Willis wasn't having any luck either to sway Niala. She had listened to Willis' rather standard explanation, but here, amongst faithful, she didn't do any effort to hide her emotions. Her disagreement was clearly visible. "But don't you work together? It is not very efficient to work like this." Lars raised an eyebrow at that commentary from the noblewoman. She continued nevertheless. "You both are intelligent men. Surely you can see that there is strength in unity? What does it matter who your boss is? As long as you're protecting the Imperium, it is for the greater good, no?"

Lars scraped his throat. Even though her words sounded logical - he had thought the same way when he was still a simple dockworker, although at that time, he hadn't given the issue as much thought as the next lunch break - Lars felt himself blushing. But this time, it wasn't embarasment that caused his reaction. He just wanted to reply, when suddenly Pumbo broke him off. "My lady, gentlemen. I'm afraid your case isn't at an end yet. I just received word of a minor conflict in the lower levels of the hive. It would seem that Wess' safehouse is right in the middle of it."

Lars cursed, forgetting he was in the presence of lady Niala. Willis quickly finished his amasec with one big swig. Lady Niala stood up and walked over to Lars' wheelchair. "What do you want to do, Lars?" she asked. "We need more intel." Lars answered while he looked at Pumbo and Willis. "I'm afraid I'll need to use your network once more Pumbo. Willis, you need to get down to that hive as quickly as possible. We'll need live information. I'll stand by at the vox and transfer any intel Pumbo manages to scavenge via his network." Both men left in a hurry. Lars was once more confrontated with the frustration of not being able to move about freely. Lady Niala was personally pushing his little cart in the direction of his chambers. Once more he would need to follow the action from a distance. There was no way he would be able to accompany Willis on his trip to the lower hive.

"So Lars. What do you think has happened?" Lady Niala asked, walking the lush hallways of the spire palace. "It's too soon to say. We'll have to wait to see what has happened and whether it has an impact on my mission." Lars answered truthfully. "You mean, checking whether the last of the bombs is still safely in the possession of Wess?" Lars couldn't fault Niala with a slow mind. "My thoughts exactly." The noblewoman continued. "What will you do if it is not?" Lars craned his head around to face the beautiful woman. "Wondering about all the possible outcomes is a waste of time. We'll just have to wait and see." It was obvious what the woman was hinting at, but Lars felt no need to reopen the debate.

 _'If Wess has lost control of the bomb, this once more becomes your mission Akira. Your duty demands it.'_

The rest of the walk towards his room was done in silence. When the noblewoman had wheeled him inside, she spoke up again. "I assume you no longer need me here?" Lars could see that she had picked up on his intention. "Well. Not really." And that she didn't like it one bit. "I'll leave you to it then, regulator Akira." Graciously she turned on her heels and started walking to the exit. A pang of guilt hit the regulator. After all, the noblewoman had assisted them every step of the way. Even though they had disagreed on the course of action, it didn't sit well with him to shut her out now. "Well, unless you want to stay here and listen in on the op." he said, trying to make amends for his behaviour.

Lady Niala turned around. "Why? How could I serve? You've made it clear that I don't really understand what is at play here." Her hurt feelings were poorly hidden behind her snibbish remark and Lars' guilt grew a little. "My lady. That is not the case. During our stay, you have made important suggestions to better our plans. You've went into the field. I don't believe..." She interrupted him. "Yet you weren't interested in discussing certain hypotheses. And you disagreed with me on the bigger picture. If the bomb remains under control of regulator Wess, you don't intend to prolong your stay to help him finding the true enemy among the elite of Hive Styx." Seeing how she brought the conversation back on their earlier disagreement, and knowing that he was right about it, Lars had no choice but to recount the same argument. "It is not my mission, but..." And apparently that was all the noblewoman needed to hear. She turned away from him. "Good luck with the operation, regulator Akira." "I... Thank you, my lady. I will keep you informed." But lady Niala didn't bother to answer. Inside, Lars was flung from a feeling of anger at the woman's stubborness and a feeling of despair at the fact she had left them to it.

He couldn't ponder the situation for long though. His vox set crackled to life as Pumbo's voice came through the horn. "Lars, my preliminary searches have turned up a massive deployment of enforcer troops in the underhive. Their mission states that they should contain the protesters and then subdue them." Lars considered this for a moment, but wasn't surprised. "That's pretty standard." Pumbo continued. "However, the reason for the uprising itself remains unclear." "Any sign of Wess being involved?" Lars asked. "Not at the moment Lars. It could still be a fluke that it's those hive levels that fell into disarray." But both Pumbo and Lars were to experienced to leave it at that. "You might be right, but it's a bit too... I don't think it is a coincedence." Pumbo grunted his agreement. "I'll keep you posted on anything we might find." he said and Lars did the same. "Good, I'll do the same if I get anything useful from Willis. Out."

And with those words, the waiting could begin.

* * *

 _+++5.238.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Mobatu Spire Palace+++_

Thanks to Pumbo's network, two hours later, Lars had already received basic intelligence that explained, partially, what had happened in the lower hive. At the moment, it were mere facts and observations, but the motives or reasons remained shrouded in mystery.

Just before dusk, like every day, a large part of the mob of low hive citizens had went to the Dispensarium of Saint Hélène, an Ecclesiarchy facility to provide the poor and the unfit with a minimum of food to survive. However, unlike every day, the doors had remained closed. One of Pumbo's little rats had seen how some of the more assertive citizens had first tried knocking on the doors, but had, quite quickly, changed their strategy to using force to open the doors with improvised crowbars and battering rams. From the Dispensarium, no reaction had come. In fact, the lights hadn't been lit and behind the windows of the upper floors, where the missionaries lived, no movement had been seen. But after five minutes, the doors had remained shut, proving to be far too sturdy to be broken open without specialized material or explosives. At the back of the mass, were it was hard to see what was going on at the gates of the Dispensarium, citizens became impatient with the lack of progress. A small part of these hivers had gone home. Another part of them had started to move forward, plowing through the mob, pushing fellow citizens aside. This caused some anger with those that had arrived earlier and here and there little fights had broken out between hungry hivers. At that point, at the front, people had given up on breaking through the doors and wanted to leave, perhaps wanting to try their luck at another Dispensarium. Whatever the reason, it caused even more pressure on the center of the mob, so that larger conflicts broke out. The weak had tried to flee the center, while around them, more experienced men and women tried to stand their ground. Pumbo's spy had reported that it had turned very ugly, very fast.

Only a few minutes later, Pumbo gave him the news that the same scene had played out at two other Dispensaria: the shrine of Saint Arnaud and that of Saint Guiltus. Two hours later, it became clear that closing the Dispensaria had been the rule, rather than the exception. Only two of the large facilities had opened that evening, but they had been forced to close their gates only two hours later when the rows became longer and longer, due to the stream of hivers that had come from the other Dispensaria. Here too the masses became unruly.

Another two hours had passed before Willis had turned in. "Gov, I'm at Rickerd's, or Wess', warehouse. The worst of the rioting has passed, but the building has taken a beating." Lars could hear background noise of sporadic fighting. "Frak. See if you can find out if Wess is still there, but more importantly, if you can locate the bomb. If it falls into the hands of the mob..." Lars didn't finish his sentence. He wasn't too worried that the thing would go off. You needed specialised equipment to fire one off and he rather doubted that the average tech-savvy hiver would even be able to locate the control panel. And it was even more unlikely that a techpriest would have joined the mob. If it was up to them, they would be dispersing the mob because they would be hindering optimal transportation conditions.

"The place has been plundered and is now abandoned, gov." Willis reported. Lars could hear how his heavy boots crashed over glass shards and how the man was shoving aside furniture to make his way through the building. "Make another pass. Be as thorough as you can." Lars asked him. Willis didn't seem very happy with that suggestion. "Frak, Lars. This place is in shambles. It'll take hours only to search the living area. Let alone the warehouse itself." Lars smiled at his end of the vox. He could picture the circumstances Willis' found himself in, but although they were unpleasant, they weren't dangerous. "What are you suggesting. Leave it as it is?" Willis replied with a sigh. "... Yeah. I thought you might think that way." Lars knew he could trust Willis. He probably was faced with an absolute mess. He wished he could be of more assistance. He said as much and left the man to his work. Next he contacted Pumbo.

"Pumbo? Lars here. Willis is at Wess' warehouse, but the man is nowhere to be seen. Can you activate your network to track him down? I suppose they would have the best chance of tracking down Rickerd instead of pointing their arrows on one of his other aliases." "Ok, I'll do that." Pumbo agreed. "Any news on the reason why the Ecclesiarchy shut down the Dispensaria?" Lars asked, but he heard the regret in the other man's voice, before he could finish his sentence. "No, Lars. I'm sorry. My network hasn't penetrated their ranks. I'm drawing a blank there." Lars was surprised, but on the other hand, he had already wondered whether Pumbo's contact network had any boundaries. "Ok, thanks. Good luck with Wess. Lars out."

So what now, Lars wondered. He had put all the assets at his disposal in play. Once more, it seemed not enough. And once more, he cursed because of the slow progress of his healing process. Nowadays he could lift light objects and remain upright. Standing up, let alone walking, was still out of the question. Pumbo's handle above his bed only worked because the matress of the bed could come up a bit.

 _'Throne, you are worthless Akira.'_

His lack of physical possibilities wasn't the only source of frustration. Instinctively he felt that the closing of the Dispensaria was linked with their mission. Handn't one of the higher-ups from Phlegethon's church been suspected of treason? Lars needed more information on the Dispensaria. He made a decision.

 _'If you can get into a car to pick up Rickerd. You can also get into a car and get access to one of those Dispensaria. At least one of those that opened their doors.'_

He pulled at the rope next to his bed, alerting a Mobatu servant that he needed assistance. Two minutes later the doors of his chamber were opened. The servant asked what he could do and left immediately to fulfill the arbite's wishes. Half an hour later, Lars was sitting once more in the armoured Cadyloc, accompagnied by the lieutenant that had assisted him during the last operation.

"So what do you want to do regulator? Besides plunging yourself in a rioting neighbourhood." Apart from being a professional, the lieutenant also had a sense of humor. Something Lars could appreciate. "You don't feel confident lieutenant?" The man grunted and Lars smiled. "We're not going to break them up singlehandedly. I propose we get as close to the Dispensarium of the Burning Heart. That's the one closest by. We'll leave the car and try to get closer. I rather doubt that the mob is still battering on their doors. It won't be quiet either, but we'll know what we can do when we're there." The lieutenant responded, half joking. "Right. You want us to leave the only protection we've got? This car would protect us and get us out." Lars remained serious though. "I understand, but like you, I respect the danger of a mob. Driving through there with this car will get us all kinds of unwanted attention." The lieutenant nodded. He was a good soldier, but not an enforcer who knew how to get around in a pinch. "I see, sir." The man wasn't being sarcastic. Rather, Lars could see that behind the brown eyes under the blue and silver cap, the man was gobbling up every new piece of advice or other lesson Lars was giving him. Lars decided that the man had learned enough for now. "Kick this thing into gear and get us there. As fast as possible."


	24. Chapter 24: Breaking and entering

_+++5.238.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Dispensarium of the Burning Heart+++_

On the way down, everything had appeared calm and normal. It was only when they passed level Omega, things had started to look a bit rough. Although the hive had been plunged into its artificial night, on the streets, little groups of men were to be found. Some had their clothes torn, others were bleeding from small wounds. On the streets you could see all kinds of trash lingering. Lars wasn't under the illusion that at this level the waste disposal system was working perfectly, but the trained eye could see that among the waste was an abnormal high amount of glass which originated from the smashed-in windows during the riots. It occured to Lars that it was ironic how the hivers of the lower levels had destroyed their own habblocks, while the actual place to get a good result from a looting would be the upper levels. But of course, there the riot would be subdued far more swiftly. It always seemed that the Imperium distributed its enforcers mostly in the places where crime levels were lowest. Official doctrine said that it was because of this concentration, the upper levels remained free of crime. Lars wasn't too sure about that, but it was another thing he wasn't at liberty to discuss.

The LT had been doing a good job of avoiding unwanted attention. He had driven the car smoothly, without speeding. He had kept as much as possible to the larger roads, so that their car had blended in with the traffic. As they had come closer to the Dispensarium, he had avoided the small alleyways as much as possible; to save time but also to avoid getting jumped by hivers. It had worked like a charm.

Now they were peering through the windscreen at the large building that functioned as the Dispensarium. It was built from large, rough blocks of black stone. As with most Ecclesiarchy buildings, the building was stylized after one of the grand cathedrals of the sector. A walkway surrounded the building with thick pillars to support the high ceilings. In the walls, high and slender windows were placed, but the glasses weren't the formidable stained glass that depicted acts of valour of the Angels of Death or Saints preaching to the masses. Down here, they had limited themselves to simple red glass, which had turned black due to the lack of light on this level. Instead of a gracious tower, the building sported only two floors above the ground level and the roof wasn't an artwork with gargoyles or fine miniature towers, but a ley grey slope that had visibly suffered under the acidic atmosphere. One could tell that the Dispensarium didn't provide its inhabitants with much luxury. The windows of the upper levels were narrow and close to one another and Lars knew that each window belonged to a single cell. Pumbo had told him the building was of a standard pattern. Although the large hall on the ground floor was completely unlit, on the third floor, behind some of the windows, a faint light could be seen.

"At least, we might be lucky and actually find one of the honoured members of the Church to talk to. Pumbo's last report said that when the mob finally managed to storm the Dispensarium of Saint Guiltus, there was no one to be found. And the stores had been emptied." Lars said to the lieutenant, breaking the silence that had continued during their trip down. "I wonder why, sir." The man replied, voicing his own doubts. "I'm asking myself the same question." Lars agreed with the officer. This seemed to encourage the man to voice another thought. "If they have all left, they must have done so rather _heimligt_. I'm sure Pumbo's spies would have noticed a long column of missionaries leaving the lower levels." Lars chuckled. "Yes. I can't imagine they have all climbed in Blackhound busses to leave this all behind without anyone noticing. It would have been quite the sight." A muffled laugh was the only reaction of the lieutenant.

"It's time we go in, lieutenant." Lars said after they had observed the building for a couple of minutes. Nobody seemed to pay them any attention. "Where do you wish to start, regulator?" The lieutenant said, as he was packing his gear: a simple laspistol and a telescopic rod. "Standard pattern building should have a small back door. I propose we try that one first. That way, we'll attract the least attention, no?" The lieutenant answered with an approving nod. It wasn't his place to doubt Lars' plan anyway.

On the main square in front of the Dispensarium, they had observed a few groups of scavengers that were picking the bodies of the fallen clean. Lars doubted that these hivers would bother them, but they would attract unnecessary attention. Moreover, there were plenty of possibilities for someone to hide in one of the buildings around the square. If anyone would be on the lookout, they would give themselves away. Not that they didn't risk the chance of discovery at the back door, but one could only try to be as sneaky as possible. The lieutenant stepped out of the car and walked to the back to retrieve the wheelchair Lars had been using. When he helped Lars into the lightweight chair, Lars felt another sting of shame; an arbite needing help to get out of a car.

 _'Frak this skit, Akira.'_

Instead of complaining about his current state, he instructed the officer. "Stay in the shadows and try to keep a decent tempo. I'll try not to fall out of this frakking thing." The lieutenant started walking at a brisk pace. Lars clamped his hands around the chair's thin armrests and tried to hang on. An even street down here was the exception rather than the rule. With a lot of bumping and skitting, they arrived at the back door. With a soft whistling sound, Lars breathed out. "That's that. Hand me that small tubular case and keep stock of our surroundings. I'm not at ease being this exposed." Lars whispered as he examined the lock of the small, wooden door. Although they were now standing in the shadow of the gallery, someone who was looking closely, would definitely see them. And since Lars was sticking a multikey into the doorlock, even loyal citizens might take offence.

"We've got incoming at your six." the lieutenant whispered, just as Lars retrieved the multikey for a second attempt at breaking the lock. He didn't look up, but franticly fumbled with his equipment. He could hear the light ticks of the levers of the mechanism in action. "Try to discourage them from joining us, will you?" Lars hissed back. He felt how the lieutenant let go of his wheelchair and turned to face their uninvited guests. Hurried, he used a tweezer to remove another safety bolt inside the lock.

"I suggest you boys find another place to hang!" Lars heard the lieutenant say rather firmly at whoever was appraoching them. "Why, is our company not good enough for you and your servitor?" came the reply, a woman, her voice clearly raw and hoarse from yelling, but Lars could hear that she lisped a little. Probably from drinking too much.

 _'Probably one of the rioters who went looting and found a case of rotgut, Akira. There's a real risk that she'll cause a scene.'_

Lars turned the multikey with a sharp movement, cursing under his breath. "I'd like to enjoy my time alone, if you catch my drift." the lieutenant tried, and Lars was rather amazed by this somewhat creative excuse the man had used. Apparently the rioter shared his surprise. "Ooow! Ok, man. Ok! Didn't see you were busy." She turned around with a dirty laugh and left the two men alone.

In the meanwhile, Lars' efforts were finally rewarded with a dull clicking sound as the lock sprang open. "Fething cowards. One look on my gun and they changed their mind." the lieutenant said as he turned back to Lars taking hold of the wheelchairs handles once more. Now Lars looked up again with a smile. "Oh? I thought that... Nice work anyway. Let's get inside before someone else tries their luck." The lieutenant pushed the chair inside over the old, worn-out doorstep. Lars could hear how he gently pushed the door shut behind them and marked the clicking noise which meant that the lock was once more in place. He hadn't damaged the mechanism too much.

Inside the Dispensarium's main hall all lights had been doused. The back door gave out onto it and in the center a dais had been raised with the statue of the double-headed aquila. On the daise three candles were lit in honour of it. The statue wasn't made of gold or any other precious material, but rather it was built out of the same crude, black stone with which the building itself had been erected. However, in the dim light of the candles, one could see that over the centuries the conclave had taken great care of it. The edges had been smoothed by thousands of gentle touches and the surface looked like it had been polished just hours ago. As far as Lars could make out, the Dispensarium was clean and the long tables where the food and drinks would be distributed among the poor were nicely ordered. In the air he could smell the faint scent of incence. All in all, it indicated a well-used and cherished building, being the center of the neighbourhood and an example of the Ecclesiarchy tending to Imperial citizens.

Lars wondered if this was the exception to the rule. But he dismissed the thought. The Dispensaria of hive Styx had been working without fault until now. There had to be something different about this one in comparison with the others. "There is no one here, regulator." the lieutenant reported. "Ok lieutenant. Let's try to find a way up." Lars acknowledged. Behind the daise a double door led to a hallway. As the two men advanced, they saw that here too, everything pointed at a good functioning community. The floor was clean and there were no signs of decay. At the end of the hallway, the two men found a staircase. The hall was unlit, but from above a faint light shone. Lars sighed.

"Not to worry, regulator." the lieutenant replied, understanding Lars' frustration. Lars didn't hide his aversion for the entire situation of dependance and answered a bit surly. "Yeah, just get me up, it'll go easier than lifting me and the chair in one go. Let's go directly to the top floor. We only saw light on that one." The lieutenant nodded and stepped to the front of the wheelchair. "Ok, hold on." The man grabbed Lars by the shoulders and hauled him to his feet. Lars found his balance and with the support of the lieutenant managed to climb the stairs.

"What the feth happened to you regulator?" the officer asked panting. Lars wasn't fat, but with his six feet two, he wasn't short either. "Some kind of... *uugh*... frakking disease... *hungh*... I picked up here." Lars replied, who was gasping for air every step of the way. "Had a little fun with the wrong electoo-whore, or what?" the lieutenant tried to lighten the mood. "Not... exactly..." Lars managed between two stairs. "So, are you gonna be like this forever?" the lieutenant asked, a bit more sobre. "Your _dotors_ don't... *gha*... think so, but to me... *uugh*... it already has been an... *huhgh*... eternity." Lars face spoke of the trouble he had taking another flight of stairs. "So what _do_ they tell you to do?" the lieutenant asked, smiling. "Mostly... *uugh*... to rest and take my... *gha*... frakking meds." The lieutenant chuckled softly at Lars' answer. "I see you are following doctor's orders closely."

Lars didn't reply and concentrated on climbing the steps. They came at the top of the second flight of stairs and all he could do was lean against the wall, trying to catch his breath. "I'll get your chair." the lieutenant whispered as he walked back to the stairwell. Lars closed his eyes for a moment. Now all they had to do was find the chief of the facility and ask him what had happened. At that point, Lars received a message by vox.

"Lars, this is Pumbo." Lars' breathing had steadied, so he could actually have a conversation with the Mobatu spy master. "Pumbo. Any news from Willis?" The spy master answered with a simple no, upon which Lars made another guess. "Then you found Wess." He was disappointed again. "No. I called in to tell you that in hive Tartarus, hive Cocytus and hives Asphodel one and two, the same thing has happened. In hive Cocytus the riots have even penetrated the middle hive levels. It appears as if whatever is going on, is happening all over the planet." Lars pinched his nose and closed his eyes. This situation seemed to grow over his head. Fast. "Frak. How good is your intel?" "As good as can be expected, Lars. My network isn't as pervasive over there, but good enough to trust whatever is coming from there." Pumbo admitted. "See if you can find out if all Dispensaria have closed down or if there have been exceptions. And if there's a reason for it." Lars asked, counting once more on the resourceful little man. "I'll see what I can do. Good luck over there. Pumbo out."

Lars could hear rummaging and opened his eyes, expecting to see the lieutenant coming up the stairs with his chair. Instead, when he opened his eyes, he saw a trio of priests, holding candles and improvised clubs, staring at him with fear on their faces. Lars stared at the strange threesome that had held their pace at about ten feet from his position. They were all wearing long, grey sleeping gowns, the symbol of a heart in flames stitched to the front, but there the resemblance ended. The one to the left was an elderly man, bald but for a few grey hairs sprouting stubbornly from the sides of his skull. His skin was yellow like old parchment and he had a bionic left eye that was of good quality, if you had to go by the clearness of the lenses and the silver trim. Next to him stood a man towering over the other two. He was holding a metre long bookscroll in one hand and a wooden chair in his other, to be used respectively as an improvised club and shield. His hair was closely cropped and a pair of watery blue eyes stared at Lars. The gown was a bit too small for the man and his legs and arms sticked out of it, giving him a bit of a comical look. The last man was half hidden behind the second. He had fuzzy brown hair and black skin. He had grown an impressive beard that reached his chest. This one held a candle and a broomstick. The three men stared back at him, without uttering a word.

 _'Did they think you were sleeping, Akira? Upright, against the wall?'_

It was only when the sound of the LT coming back up the stairs could be heard, that the three men moved and started to speak. All at once. "Who the feth..." said the first. "Hit him, Alistair!" said the third, poking at Lars with his broomstick at the same time. The giant between them looked confused. "Sir!... What?"

Lars slowly raised his hands as the three priests looked at one another to decide who would be taking the lead. When the lieutenant's head peered around the corner of the stairwell, Lars started talking himself, taking the opportunity to declare that they weren't common gangers. "Lieutenant, stay there," he began with a calm and steady voice. He had no reason to scare these members of the Ecclesiarchy. On the contrary, he desperately needed information about what was going on. Especially now this thing had grown from a local incident to a planet wide phenomenon. "I am regulator Lars Akira, member of the Adeptus Arbites. We've come here for information. Who are you?"

When presented with a surprise, most people reacted well to an easy question, Frank had told him during training. This time too, it worked nicely. The old man took the lead. "This here," he pointed at the towering man next to him, "is acolyte Alistair. Standing next to him is preacher Michel. I myself am Missionary Tristan Goodfellow." Lars nodded, taking care not to make any sudden movements to avoid having to fend of the blows of Alistair's bookscroll. "Good. Is it ok if the lieutenant ascends? I'm having trouble standing up and he was kind enough to fetch my wheelchair." The missionary seemed confused, as well he should be, thought Lars. "Of course, but..." Lars raised both his hands, showing that he had nothing to hide. "I am well aware that you have numerous questions, but time is of the essence. Can you bring me to your superior?" This seemed to be a question that Goodfellow could answer more easily. "That depends. If you are looking for my superior, you need to get yourself a space ship. If you want to talk of the leader of this community, you've already found him."

Lars raised an eyebrow, while the lieutenant put down the chair behind him. With a sigh of relief, Lars sat down in the chair, still trying to connect the dots. "I thought that your superior would be one of the Ecclesiarchy leaders of hive Styx. What are you saying?" Now the man seemed in his element. And when Lars mentioned the spiritual leaders of hive Styx, the man straightened his shoulders and took on a more proud pose. "I'm saying that the local leaders have no authority over me. I am a missionary of the Order of the Burning Heart. Of that order, I am the highest ranking member on Phlegethon." Now, Lars was confused. Although he was a pious man, the inner workings of the Ecclesiarchy were as strange to him than the techno-lingua that the members of the Adeptus Mechanicus used to communicate with. "But..." The priest seemed to realize that the arbite had somehow trouble understanding what he was dealing with. "Perhaps, my son, we need to have this conversation in my quarters. I can see you are confused and you could use the Emperor's guidance."

The lieutenant looked at Lars to see what the regulator wanted to do. The man presented as Michel started whispering something, but was cut off by Missionary Goodfellow. "Alistair, please ignore father Michel's pleas. It is clear to me that these are loyal servants of the Emperor. It wouldn't be very nice of us to try to hit them with the chair. Could you bring him to his cell? Next, I'd like you to wait outside my quarters. I might have further need of you." The novice seemed happy to receive some clear orders and answered relieved. "Yes, father." Alistair then took father Michel by the shoulder and gently pushed the man back from where they came from. The black Michel started muttering and angrily pointing behind his back, but Alistair didn't pay it much attention.

"Now, please follow me, young men." said missionary Goodfellow before leading them to a cell Lars thought was a tad larger than the ordinary cell. The interior breathed an air of a sober and simple life. Lars didn't really know what he should expect from the missionary. He hadn't come into contact with a lot of members of the Ecclesiarchy.

"Now, young man. I presume you are not just here to investigate the petty riots that took place earlier this evening. I haven't been in the company a member of the Adeptus Arbites before, but I have seen a few riots in my years. So this is no ordinary investigation. Especially," Goodfellow gave the lieutenant a quick look up and down, "since you are being escorted by a noblemen's houseguard." Lars thought about that for a few moments. Although Goodfellow had greeted him without hostility, he wasn't completely sure he could trust him. At least not with all the information he possessed.

 _'You've spilled your beans once already on this planet. A bit of reticence might be in place, Akira.'_

Lars waited till the lieutenant sat down in the chair beside him. "To keep it simple for now, let's just say I'm investigating these riots." Goodfellow raised his eyebrows as if he were to say that he found it strange Lars didn't take him in confidence, but didn't comment on it. "As you wish, regulator. How can I help a faithful servant of the Emperor?" Lars was glad he didn't have to explain everything and immediately went over to business. "Well, if you could explain why all the Dispensaria have closed, except for yours, that would probably help us a lot."

Goodfellow leaned back, sitting on his bed. There had just been one chair in the room and with Lars' wheelchair, there was no room to put another one. "Did only mine open? Hmmm. Strange. I would have thought that Uriatrix would have ignored him too." Lars looked for his little notebook and a pencil. "What? Who is Uriatrix?" Goodfellow looked up, quickly masking his surprise over Lars' lack of knowledge. "Oh. Uriatrix is the sister superior of the Order of the White Rose, from the Adepta Sororitas. They also have a Dispensarium located here, in hive Styx. I was just surprised they closed it, like everybody else." Lars nodded. "It was the other exception, missionary Goodfellow. But your facility was closer by, so we investigated it first." "I see. The Emperor protects," said the missionary for some reason. "It would have been rather surprising if she had shut down too." "Ok. Why?" Lars asked not understanding the man's logic. "Because, regulator Akira, she, nor me, owes the cardinal Lessius Matonge-Kivu III anything. Certainly no obedience when he wants to abandon thousands of loyal Imperial souls."

Despite the situation, Lars had to smile at the calm missionary. The man gave him a questioning look. "Your answers lead only to more questions, missionary." Lars clarified. "I have time to answer them, regulator. The Emperor provides." Goodfellow said smiling as if he was guiding a well-meaning child through a schola exercise. "I wish I could say that I had time too, missionary." Lars replied. "Like I said," Goodfellow said, still smiling, "The Emperor will provide, regulator. Now ask me your questions. Although He provides, one should not withhold sleep from His servants." Lars was pretty sure that the Emperor had never issued such a commandment, but didn't think it wise to raise that remark at this point. "Right." he said instead. Lars blushed a bit. He found it hard to place this man. Calm, despite having faced a riot at his door. Composed, despite having uninvited guests in their dormitory. Reasonable, despite being faced with an arbite.

"Ok, what did Matonge-Kivu III ask of you and why didn't you obey?" Lars continued the interview. "Well, yesterday evening we received a courier from his Holiness that told us about the cardinal's demand to close the Dispensarium and leave the lower hive unnoticed. We didn't comply for three reasons. One, cardinal Matonge-Kivu III is in no way my direct superior. My order is part of the Ecclesiarchy, but not part of the traditional hierarchy. I'm only obliged to do the bidding of my Abbot Roger Cane, who resides at the other end of the subsector. That's why I told you you needed a space ship to see him. Two, I might have respected cardinal Matonge-Kivu III's wishes, if they had been, let's say, more in line with the Ecclesiarch doctrine, but turning our back on loyal citizens isn't something that qualifies for that. Moreover, it's obvious that it is counter productive. Closing the Dispensaria, would, and has, caused massive riots in the underhive. I fail to see why this would be productive in furthering the Emperor's cause. Three, I don't respond well to demands or threats."

And with that Goodfellow shut up and looked at Lars, who couldn't help himself and smiled again at that last comment. "And the reason why the Dispensarium of the Order of the White Rose opened, is probably because sister superior Uriatrix feels the same way as you." The missionary shrugged. "Of course, I can only speculate, regulator, but to me, that seems the only logical explanation. Although you'd have to go over there to ask her if you want to be sure. However, I wouldn't try to break in, like you did here, if I were you. You might have been able to take on young Alistair. I rather doubt that you would be able to face the wrath of the Sisters. And sister superior Uriatrix has the, perhaps more prudent, approach of battering any intruders into submission before asking questions."

Lars blushed again at that last comment. "Yes... ahrem... my apologies for breaking in here." The old missionary gave him a sympathetic smile. "Don't worry, regulator. The Emperor protects. It would be quite unlike Him to let you head over to the other Dispensarium first to get your head bashed in. After all, you are doing His work, aren't you?" Lars hesitated a second, but didn't see any reason to contradict the priest. "Yes. Yes, of course missionary." "Well then, unless you have more questions?" Goodfellow asked, getting ready to stand up and show them the door. "Just one, missionary. Where can I find cardinal Matonge-Kivu III?" The missionary stopped in his tracks, and looked down on Lars in his wheelchair, frowning. "The Cathedral of the Angels Descending of course." The priest seemed to want to ask a question himself, but ultimately decided against it. "Anything else?" "Just your blessing, missionary." Lars said, bowing his head for the priest.

Goodfellow did as much and once outside the cramped cell, Alistair led them back out of the Dispensarium. Luckily, no looters, nor rioters were waiting for them and the lieutenant and Lars used the cover of darkness of the artificial night to get back to the Mobatu palace.


	25. Chapter 25: Ecclesiarchial diplomacy

_+++5.239.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Freeway D65+++_

After a short report from Willis - still no trace of the bomb or Wess - Lars contacted Pumbo. By now he was feeling tired, but the fact that Wess was MIA, spurred him on. He had to find the bomb, especially now it seemed that one of the main conspirators was becoming active. He didn't have confirmation that cardinal Matonge-Kivu III played a role in the disappearance of the _Menapi Volantis_ , but his actions, together with the file he received from Arthur, were reason enough to be suspicious.

"Pumbo? Lars here. We now know why the Dispensaria closed yesterday. They received orders from cardinal Matonge-Kivu III." The man at the other side of the line remained quiet for a second, and only commented ever so briefly. "Strange." "Why?" Lars asked. "I didn't think the man had the balls to be so forthcoming." Pumbo said after another pauze as if he was still processing the information. "Huh? If it hadn't been for our break in and the fact that the Order of the Burning Heart doesn't owe the cardinal allegiance, we wouldn't have found out about it." Lars said a bit surprised. After all, it hadn't been that easy to find out about it. Pumbo scraped his throat. "True, but eventually we would have. You believe all those priests who have withdrawn from the lower levels are happy with this decision? You think they would have kept their mouth shut?" Lars grunted his agreement, but still felt that the cardinal had played it safe. "Perhaps not in the long run, but now, at this moment? We don't even know where they all are. They could have been put in custody by Ecclesiarchal forces." Pumbo didn't seem convinced. "Still, it doesn't fit with the profile I've got from the somewhat stately Matonge-Kivu." Lars tried not to laugh. "So, you're putting all your faith in character profiling? Like those haven't been wrong before." Although he hadn't laughed, Pumbo didn't seem to happy with Lars' assumption, so the little man pushed back. "Lars. I don't know how the Adeptus Arbites handles profiling, but I'm fairly confident about mine."

Lars remained silent for a few moments. He didn't like it that Pumbo was putting his own methods over those of the Arbites. On the other hand, the only reason Lars didn't like profiling was because Arthur had told him so. _"It's all a load of bullocks and crap, old chap. You need to go over there, break a few noses, bring the culprit back and interrogate him. It's a bit embarassing when your suspect is innocent, but most of the time they confess to something else, so it hasn't been a complete waste of time. Anyway, profiling doesn't get you results. And have you met the adepts that dabble in that sort of thing? Half of the time they appear to be strung on Obscura, scrawny frakkers. No, no. Forget about profiling and remember to crack skulls!"_ Here and now though, without proper support to go against a cardinal of the Ecclesiarchy, Arthur's tactics seemed a bit out of place, not to say unrealistic.

"All I'm saying is, Lars, don't storm the cathedral just like that. I'd advise you to meet with Matonge-Kivu and present him the facts. Of course, armed with your gun. If he can explain himself, we'll probably obtain more intel on the conspiracy. If he is guilty, nothing stops you from threatening him with your pistsol and taking him away. I can provide you with a cover, if you like." Lars could hear that Pumbo was trying to give him good advice, not trying to talk him into something. "Go on." "We could make you the chamberlin of lady Niala, going over to the cardinal for information about her son. He has joined the ranks of the Ecclesiarchy." Pumbo ventured. "I remember." Lars answered, but he remained quiet. "Well?" Pumbo asked. "I'm not too sure Pumbo. Why would Matonge-Kivu incline to a visit with a mere chamberlain. I don't mean to disrespect your mistress, but I even doubt that if she would go in person, she would get to meet the cardinal. Besides, we need access to him quick. If he really is behind all this _skit_ , I'd reckon he isn't open to a friendly visit from a spire noble." Lars answered. He really wasn't convinced that another cover op would be the thing they needed. Those things needed time and that was the commodity they seemed to lack most right now. Things were getting out of hands. "So, what do you want to do?" Pumbo asked, without a trance of disappointment or misgivings in his voice. "I think it's time I retrieved my badge of office and took a more direct approach." Lars said, sounding more determined as he voiced his own intuition. "Ok." the Mobatu spymaster answered, now sounding a bit off-ish. "But I'll keep your suggestion in mind about talking it through with him first." Lars tried to reassure him. "You think you can send some backup to the cathedral? I don't need the whole house guard, but three elite soldiers might be interesting to have at our side." The LT took his eyes of the road and turned to Lars. "Ask for privates N'Sako and Mwambezi. And masterchief Ouedrogo."

Lars passed on the names and promised Pumbo he would check in with him before they went in. Next, he got Willis back on the line and explained what he was going to do. The other arbite wished him good luck and broke contact to continue his search. Lars and the lieutenant drove on upwards.

* * *

 _+++5.239.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Styx, Cathedral of the Angels Descending+++_

Lars was still surprised how easily he had got to the heart of the cathedral. His badge of office had opened all doors, except for the one he was standing before, the private chambers of cardinal Matonge-Kivu III. On the wooden bench against the wall, the lieutenant and his three men were sitting down. On the other side of the hall a single squad of Ecclesiarchy guards was standing, their leader somewhat uneasy. They had orders to accompany Lars and his troops and although the CO had said to cooperate, it was clear that the guards weren't used to having armed guests this close to the cardinal. Lars wanted to start pacing, but kept a hold on himself. Instead, he remained stiffly sitting in his chair and stared at the woodwork of the magnificent door to the personal quarters of the cardinal.

"It's quite excuisite, don't you think regulator?" came the question in a falsetto voice. "What? Oh, the woodcarving. Yes, of course, you are too right, bishop." Lars replied, his stream of thoughts broken. Apart from the dozen or so guards, they had also received the company of bishop Kinshi, the highest ranking priest awake. The bishop had been busy performing an early service for a few hundred pilgrims that had come to the cathedral. "The door was made in honour of missionary Lucius Carusso that spread the faith after the Angels had pacified the planet. It is thousands years old, but we keep it in good shape, as you can see." the man continued, glad that he could engage in small talk instead of thinking about the possible reasons for an arbite requesting an urgent meeting with the highest authority of Phlegethon's Ecclesiarchy. "Yes, it is quite formidable." Lars agreed.

Lars' mind was elsewhere though. He was still pondering how he would handle the cardinal. His earlier plans had all been wiped off the table when the guards at the gate of the cathedral had accepted his credits and had brought him to Kinshi. It wasn't what he had expected. When Kinshi had suggested to head over to the quarters of Matonge-Kivu III immediately, it had been an even bigger surprise. It was of course possible that the cardinal had left his subordinates in the dark about his machinations, but it could also be a sign of his innocence. Lars was impatient to find out which, so again he had to restrain himself to avoid pacing like a caged bear. In the meanwhile, Kinshi continued his explication about the woodwork and the dozens of scenes that were depicted. Lars was just about to say that he didn't really care about any of it, when they could all hear the sound of a key that was shoved in the lock. Moments later the door was swung open by a servant and Lars laid eyes on cardinal Matonge-Kivu III.

Before him stood a large, black man, not unlike most of his fellow hivers, with white curly hair that was trimmed short to his skull. Around his neck hung an impressive golden necklace with a heavy charm, artisticly shaped like the Imperial double-headed eagle. The man had refreshed himself and had put on a white gown that had been embellished with intricate patterns in filigrene. Around his middle a thick, silver belt from which each shackle was stylized with Imperial laurels. In his right hand, he held his staff of office. With his left one, he presented his signet ring. Lars didn't know what to do and looked at the man. He could see an indomitable will in the eyes of the cardinal and an eyebrow that was being raised ever so slowly. Suddenly, bishop Kinshi stepped before Lars, grabbing the hand with a bit too much haste, and pressed his lips on it. "Thank you for answering your humble servant, your worship." the bishop said, clearly trying to avoid another awkward situation. Lars understood that he was to pay the cardinal the same level of respect, but hesitated just another second.

 _'Do you owe this man anything, Akira? This potential traitor?'_

But he soon inclined his head and kissed the signet ring as well. After all, the man could still be innocent and it wouldn't do to alienate the highest ranking member of the Ecclesiarchy on Phlegethon. Especially if he wanted more information on what was going on at the Dispensaria. The cardinal spoke in a strong and calm voice. "I've been told that you are regulator Lars Akira of the Adeptus Arbites and that you wish to speak to me about an urgent matter. Is this correct?" Lars tried to keep his voice steady. All in all he was a bit intimidated by all the luster of the cathedral and the cardinal himself. "Yes, your worship." "Then please enter my quarters," the cardinal said with an inviting gesture. "The Ecclesiarcy is at your service."

Lars followed the man inside, rolling his wheelchair singlehandedly. The lieutenant and his men remained at the door. Only the biship and the servant followed Lars in. Inside, Lars was shocked by the luxuriousness and lavishness of the cardinal's quarters. They were placed in one of the many cathedral's bell towers and dozens of high windows offered a spectacular view on Phlegethon's dark green ocean. The cardinal's salon could easily encompass three times Lars' current bedroom. The cardinal headed for a couple of sofa's close to one of the windows. With a tiny flick of his finger, he indicated that he wanted drinks to be served. It was too early for liquor, so the servant offered Lars and the deacon recaf. Lars refused politely and waited for the cardinal to sit, before beginning the conversation. The cardinal remained upright though.

"So, regulator Akira. What has brought you here? We rarely see members of the Adeptus Arbites around here. They are far too occupied for regular visits at the cathedral," the man opened the conversation. "Well, your worship. First I'd like to thank you for seeing me on such short notice." Lars tried to remember every lesson Frank Horrigan had given him about diplomacy and etiquette, but apparently the cardinal wasn't really interested, as he cut to the chase. "I was told that you needed to speak to me urgently. If it is in my power, I will not hinder an Imperial officer in his duty. How can I assist you?" Lars complied. "Your worship is probably aware of the riots in the underhive?..." The regulator pauzed to see the cardinal's reaction. "No. No, not at all. What has happened? I suppose the poor souls were misguided once more?" If the man was lying, Lars couldn't see it. "I'm not quite sure, your worship." "What do you mean? You don't know the reason for their rioting, or you don't believe them to be misguided?" The tone of the cardinal's voice had become cold. Lars could see the piercing eyes of the cardinal, boring themselves into his. This was no man to trifle with. "They were most certainly misguided... But also provoked... Your worship." Lars continued, cautiously. "Provoked how, regulator? There is no valid reason for an uprising. I would think an officer of the Adeptus Arbites would be quite aware of that." Lars could now see that the cardinal was getting annoyed.

 _'Good, Akira. If he's getting angry, he might just let his guard down.'_

"Perhaps I used the wrong phrase, your worship... One might say that the cause of the riots, was the closing of the Ecclesiarchy's Dispensaria, your worship." The cardinal didn't seem inclined to defend himself against the accusation. "... Would you care to elaborate, regulator?" he asked instead, perhaps stalling for time. "Last night, all the Dispensaria, except for two, have remained closed to the inhabitants of hive Styx, your worship. Only the dispensaria of the Order of the Burning Heart and of the Adepta Sororitas remained open. This phenomenon wasn't limited to the Dispensaria of Hive Styx, but all the other hives of Phlegethon have seen the same thing happening. And all have suffered from it."

While giving his account, Lars observed the cardinal carefully. Although he should have been easier to read than the Fabricator General back on Rexon, Lars witnessed the opposite. The cardinal didn't appear to be shocked, but his face wasn't showing deliberate calculation either. The man remained calm, not betraying himself with minuscule signs of contentment or guilt. What Lars could see was that he was under scrutiny himself too.

 _'Good luck with that, frakker.'_

Lars kept his face in check and continued his report. "When we visited missionary Goodfellow, he told us he received orders earlier to close the Dispensarium and retreat to the upper hive. These orders were sent out by you, your worship." Again, Lars studied the cardinal's face and body language, looking for the faintest sign of guilt, unease or confusion. But the man remained a sphinx and again Lars couldn't detect any emotions on the news. However, this time, he remained silent himself, leaving it to the cardinal to explain himself. However, it was bishop Kinshi that spoke up. "Are you saying that the cardinal is at the root of this misery and suffering?" Clearly the man wasn't as sharp as the cardinal himself. "I am saying no such thing, father Kinshi," Lars replied, "I only present the observations I have made during my investigation." The bishop still seemed to struggle with those observations. "And have you considered the fact that missionary Goodbellow..." "Goodfellow." Lars corrected. "Goodfellow, missionary Goodfellow isn't mistaken? Surely there must be some misunderstanding." Lars was still looking at the cardinal, but the man remained impervious to his gaze.

 _'Let's put the cards on the table, Akira.'_

Lars rummaged in the brown groxhide sack he had tied to the left armrest of his wheelchair. Moments later he produced a small piece of yellow parchment. "The orders weren't just given by an Ecclesiarchy messenger, but missionary Goodfellow was so good as to provide me with the written commands he received. I'm sure, you will recognize the seal at the bottom." The servant stepped forward and accepted the piece of parchment and handed it over to Kinshi. The bishop read the text and then, carefully, studied the blood red seal at the bottom. In the meanwhile, Lars kept an eye on the cardinal, but as the bishop was busy reading, the man turned towards one of the massive windows, staring out over the ocean. He didn't look up when the deacon adressed him.

"Cardinal Matonge-Kivu... It appears as if your seal has been used to issue these commands." Without looking, Lars could detect shock and surprise with the bishop. Clearly, the man hadn't expected Lars' claims to be true. The cardinal didn't turn around, so Lars instructed the bishop. "Please examine the seal closely, deacon. It is important that there is no doubt about the genuineness of the seal."

While the bishop sent the servant away to find a pocket lens, Lars cautiously reached for the Pugnatis pistol that he had pressed between his thigh and the wheelchair. This was a crucial fase. If the cardinal was guilty, he would try a move now. Still, the man didn't turn around. The tension grew and Lars almost flinched when the cardinal started talking. "Bishop Kinshi. Could you give the arbite and me a bit of... privacy?" "Of course, father." The man had answered even before he could think about it. Lars could see that even though he stood up from his seat, confusion had taken over. Clearly, this wasn't standard protocol. The thick, soft carpet muffled the man's footsteps, but in the reflection of the window, the cardinal could see how the bishop distanced himself. After half a minute or so, the cardinal finally turned around to face Lars. "So, the wolves have started their operation, I take it."

Lars didn't reply. Did the cardinal allude to the planetwide conspiracy that had started with the crash of the _Menapi Volantis_ or was he simply speaking of the closing of the Dispensaria. Or was he lying? Even though Lars directed all his attention to the cardinal, he couldn't tell. The man had years of experience over the arbite. So Lars remained silent, hoping the cardinal would continue. "I'm quite sure the seal is genuine, regulator Akira." The cardinal fell silent once more, but still Lars didn't know whether this was some sort of crazy confession, or a ploy to provoke Lars into something rash and stupid. The pistol felt heavy in his right hand and he could feel how he started to sweat.

"I suppose you are aware that even thought the Ecclesiarchy serves the Emperor and only Him, there are many factions within our divine organisation? Since you have spoken to missionary Goodfellow, I don't doubt it. So perhaps you are not surprised to hear that even in this very cathedral, the heart of His church on Phlegethon, various people have different agenda's."

 _'So he wants to shift the blame to someone else, Akira.'_

"Forgive me, your worship, but you too have an agenda, I presume." Lars said. "My word. You can be quite direct, regulator. But of course, of course I have an agenda. Though mine doesn't involve murdering innocent people. But perhaps that is not your issue?" Now, it was Lars' turn to feel indignified. "It most certainly is one of my issues." he replied, falling completely out of his role of cynical investigator. "Ah... You are still young, aren't you, my son?" the cardinal said, a faint smile appearing at the corners of his mouth. "Old enough to know the difference between right and wrong. And I have been deemed wise enough to apply Imperial law, your worship." The cardinal wanted to reply but held his tongue. Lars held his hand over his pistol. He didn't know what to make of the man. On the one hand, he had implied that he was not to blame, but on the other, he had virtually confessed to him that he didn't mind the hundreds, perhaps thousands of citizens being killed.

"Regulator, I'm gonna tell you a story. Once upon a time there was a pityful planet, far away from the Emperor's golden light and life on the planet was miserable. However He who sits on the Golden Throne proclaimed that its inhabitants shouldn't be abandoned and His most faithful servants, the Ecclesiarchy, heard His commands and acted accordingly. So, before these massive hives had risen over the surface of the caustic oceans, His servants were here, aiding the people. Many that were sent, died from the violent weather, not accustomed to the harmful climate of the planet. So over time, the servants of the Throne decided that they would gather those on the planet that showed the most potential. Some of those accepted the journey to kneel before Him on Terra, others were taught His ways and how to spread His message of unity on Phlegethon itself. This last strategy bore fruit. Seeing how these men didn't succumb to the climate, the local populace heeded their message. After accepting His word, the planet started to thrive and others that proclaimed to be in service of Him came to it. Military men, shepards of the machine spirits and countless scribes and adepts to establish His worldly rule. With them, also returned those that had accepted the journey to the Throne and they mingled among their former brethren, but they were clad in white silk robes and carried His word in prescious books and scrolls. Centuries passed, but even though the two factions collaborated and His church on the planet grew ever more strongly, their ranks remained separated. As the church grew, so did the odds and what had begun as differences in opinion, became a church rife with competition and ambition."

The cardinal turned around once more, looking out of the windows of his quarters. "So, what are you saying, your worship. That what has happened, isn't your responsability?" Lars tried. "No regulator. Not at all. It is my responsability... It became my responsability when they hung the cardinal's red over my shoulders and handed me the golden staff..." The man sighed and Lars could almost feel what weight pressed on the man's shoulders. "I had hoped it didn't had to come to this, regulator, but it seems your inquiry is about to unveal the secrets of this diocese." Lars looked up at the man, trying to digest what the man was saying. "Your worship?"  
"Know that you will strongly destabilize Ecclesiarchy rule if you follow up on this lead. I have no power to stop you and I wonder whether the Emperor himself is behind this..." Lars had to prick his ears to hear what the cardinal whispered next. "Perhaps, it will be for the best. You would know, wouldn't You, Lord?"

The cardinal stared out of the window for another minute, his mind wandering off. When the man turned around, Lars didn't recognize him. Gone was the poker face and with it any philosophical insights. "You need to find the Keeper of the Cardinal Seal, regulator. Since only him or me can use it - and I didn't autorize the closing of the Dispensaria - he is your man. Normally, you should be able to find him in this cathedral, but since he has become this brash in his actions, I cannot guarantee his presence. And before you ask, nor do I have the authority to bring him in. As you might have understood, my rule here is not absolute even though the outside world might think so. An illusion for which both parties have gone to no lengths to keep intact. Because, whoever got to rule the Ecclesiarchy of Phlegethon, he would most surely want to do so in this magnificent cathedral; not a smoking ruin. And we both have our loyal parishes, so once this illusion would be broken, there would be no longer any reason to start recruiting among the faithful, convincing them that their view was the right one and that the others were charlatans, only better dressed than yet another low hive rip off, pardon my language." Lars hid his surprise at this change in the cardinal. "What will you do, your worship?"

Lars tried to gain some time to bring some order to his thoughts. He still wasn't sure cardinal Matonge-Kivu wasn't lying to him. Besides that, he was only beginning to come to an understanding of the schisma in this church, let alone the possible consequences if that schisma would be revealed to the masses. "I will do nothing, regulator. I will not plunge this church in open battle. If one of my opponents wishes to do that, I will react of course. But I won't be pushed to take the first step. More bloodshed is not the way to solve this."

 _'So he's gonna see what you will bring about, Akira. Clever, buying time to prepare himself in the shadows.'_

"I'll investigate this to the bottom, your worship. I presume bishop Kinshi can direct me to the quarters of the Keeper?" The cardinal nodded. "He will do your bidding. It is a good man, though. If you can prevent him from being injured or killed, I would be rather grateful." Lars was shocked by the casual attitude the cardinal talked about life and death once more, but he tried to conceal his emotions. Just like he concealed the fact that he was only looking for the last of the virus bombs, not saving the cardinal's, or the Keeper's for that matter, rule. He didn't ask for the cardinal's blessing. Even though this was the rightful leader of the Phlegeton Ecclesiarchy, Lars didn't want anything to do with the man. He turned around and with a bit of effort, plowed his wheelchair through the thick carpet towards the exit.


	26. Chapter 26: Raid on the Keeper

_+++5.240.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Phlegethon, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive styx, Cassiopus Mansion+++_

Lars checked his pistol again. He couldn't move freely because of the chair, so it would be of capital importance to take out the opposition before they could take him out. Behind him, masterchief Ouedrogo checked the makeshift flak plates they had attached to the wheelchair. Even with Lars' bodyarmour, anything extra that could keep the arbite safe was welcome. At his right, the LT, N'Sako and Mwabezi were doing a quick weapon check. Before him Willis had crouched down. The look on his face wasn't to Lars' liking. But then again, Lars' presence wasn't to Willis' liking.

"Stop your pouting Willis." Lars grumbled. "Phuh, I don't take orders from a cripple." Willis bit back, only half mocking. Lars decided to play along. "Get over here, so I can knock you out, greenhorn." But his subordinate didn't feel like playing. Far too serious he gave him the answer Lars didn't want to hear. "If you can't even do that without my help, you have no business being here."

Lars couldn't blame him for his attitude. Not really. He knew his presence would make the mission harder. Ouedrogo was a crack shot with his combat shotgun, the lieutenant had said, but here he was, stuck to chair duty. On the other hand, Lars couldn't afford not being here. He'd like to avoid any extra trouble if at all possible. Not that he had grown fond of cardinal Matonge-Kivu, but the idea of a religious schisma and the riots that would be provoked by that was something he wanted to avoid at all cost. They needed to take out the Keeper of the Seal without drawing attention to it. Lars was well aware that this meant he was picking a side in the conflict, but without more information, he was going by the principle that the alpha dog was king. And in his book, the one with the more golden insignia's was the alpha dog. In this case, the cardinal.

Lars didn't answer Willis. He just felt an undeniable urge to finish this case. Bishop Kinshi had brought him to the Keeper's quarters in the cathedral, but as the cardinal had predicted, the man hadn't been present. With a stroke of luck - he really had felt entitled to it - he had noticed how the man had used an old code to protect his agenda. It had taken mere minutes to see how the man had decided to stay at his uncle's mansion while the rest of the operation took place. So, that's where the little strike force had gathered: two blocks away from the Cassiopus Mansion. It was situated at one of the middle levels of the hive, which had surprised Lars. However, the house was built against the exterior of hive Styx and enjoyed a wide panorama over the ocean, so it was still a prime piece of land. When Willis had returned from his recon tour, he had told them that there even was a landing pad that could accomodate a small guncutter. With this kind of facility, the Cassiopus family members wouldn't even need to cross the middle hive to get to their natural environment. It also explained why the entrance to the mansion was a little door, barely wide enough to let someone through with a backpack or groceries. Apart from this entrance, which they assumed was the servants entrance, no other doors or gates gave access from to the mansion from the street.

"Right men. We're storming in five. Remember. We want to make as little casualties as possible. One man in specific shouldn't be harmed. You've all seen his pict, Aghahar Cassiopus. The Keeper. Just don't think he'll be parading around in his Ecclesiarch attire down here. And don't think he won't put up a fight. So, if _skit_ comes to shove, hit him in the non-vital areas. He's rich enough to get a bionic limb, but I don't think the Emperor will bring him back from the grave. Not with his rep sheet... It's a big house, but it only has two exits. We'll be entering through one and work our way to the other. Anyone you encounter should be put down. I've made sure we have plenty of these," Lars held up a set of manacles, "so don't think you can't waste them on a servant. Don't worry about how tight you put them on. No one has died from a manacle that was strapped too tight. In fact, the contrary is true. Literally... We'll split up in two teams. Willis and N'Sako take left, the LT and Mwambezi right. I'll be right on your heels with masterchief Ouedrogo. Ok, that's it. The Emperor protects. Let's move to our starting position."

The men complied without another word. Ouedrogo didn't seem to have any trouble keeping up with the others, even if he was pushing Lars' chair. The man was easily the largest man Lars had ever seen. Apart from hugely modified techpriests of course, but with his towering 8 foot, he could even be a match for those. Lars had noticed that they had modified a regular flak armour to fit the man. He didn't bother to wear a helmet - Lars didn't care for that kind of attitude much - but finding one in his size would have been quite difficult. When they came at the door, Lars could see that he hadn't even broken a sweat.

At the front of the little row, N'Sako swung a portable ram and crashed open the little servants entrance. Immediately Willis dove through the opening using the surprise to overwhelm any potential enemies. The all clear came almost immediately, just after a dull thud rang through the corridor. When Lars was wheeled through the door, he could see how a guard was knocked out and was already being cuffed by N'Sako. The LT and Mwambezi hadn't stopped and were already further down the hallway, checking the doors to their right. Lars had to hold tight as Ouedrogo stormed after them. It soon became clear that the lower level was only populated by servants and a few guards. All were taken down quickly and relatively silently. Lars' silencer felt hot of the shot he had placed in the kneecap of one of the guards, taking the man down before he could grab his handheld vox at his belt.

They gathered at the main elevator. "What next?" the LT asked. "We could go straight up to the top," Willis replied, implying that it would be the logical place to find Keeper Aghahar. "Turning this into a defensive instead of an offensive operation." Lars finished. "Ok. I like it. Let's do it. I'll go in the elevator with Ouedrogo, you and N'Sako go via the stairwell. The LT and Mwambezi go for the landing platform to make sure the frakker doesn't escape. Keep in touch, lieutenant!"

The masterchief pushed Lars into the elevator and with a quick flick, turned him around to face the closing doors. Lars pushed the button for the top floor, a marble stud with a chiseled gothic three in it. The mansion was pretty old and so was the elevator and Lars imagined how the old machine spirit started moving the cogs to bring up the cage. The iron pointer slowly crept to the right of the scale, which suited Lars just fine as he didn't want to arrive too much ahead of Willis.

The doors slid open. Three man in the hall beyond. Lars aimed, compensated for the silencer and fired. One man down. Then the booming noise of Ouedrogo's shotgun. The masterchief had joined the combat. Another one of the guards dead. He left a red smear on the wall. The third guard, a woman, dived to the floor. Right into the path of Willis and N'Sako. Willis' shockmaul made short work of her. N'Sako was already reaching for his manacles when Ouedrogo trundled out of the elevator with Lars in the wheelchair.

"Willis left side! No more time for stealth!" Lars yelled. Ouedrogo's shotgun would have alerted everybody on this floor anyway. Probably the rest of the building too. Lars' suspicion was confirmed when the microbead in his ear tjirped. "Regulator. Are you in need of backup?" The voice of the LT was calm as ever. Lars tried to reply as calmly as the officer, although it wasn't as easy as he was being shaken left and right in his little carriage. "Negative lieutenant. Just a strong point. We're clear." "Roger." the LT confirmed before cutting the line. The man had business of his own to take care of.

The masterchief banged open every door on the right side of the hallway with Lars' wheelchair serving as a ram. Lars kept his pistol at the ready to take out any opposition. At the other side, Willis and N'Sako were doing the same. The rooms they entered were all empty. Guestquarters Lars gathered. The vox tjirped again. "Regulator. We've reached the hangar. It is abandoned but for a small shuttle." The LT reported in. "Secure it," ordered Lars, "If we don't trap them here on the top floor, it is their most probable way out." The LT acknowledged the instructions and broke the line. In the meanwhile Lars, Willis, the masterchief and private N'Sako had reached the end of the hall. They found themselves standing in a round chamber with five doors covering the far side of the circle.

"Take left side Willis! Chief! Door to the right!" Lars said, pointing at his door with his pistol. At his back Lars could hear how Willis broke through the left door a fraction of a second before him. So he also heard the noise of gunshots, just as he himself was pushed through the door. The masterchief didn't flinch and gave him a forceful push which made sure the guards in the room missed him. Ouedrogo himself took cover against the doorframe, using his shotgun to lay down a barrage. Lars grabbed the left wheel of his chair, holding it firmly to spin around his vertical axis. He could see now that the room they had entered was some sort of dining room, a semi-circular chamber with the five doors giving access to it from the inner wall. The dinnertable had been overturned and cutlery and plates were spread out over the thick red carpet. Behind the table, Lars could see numerous armed men. Aiming right at him. Time seemed to slow down. One of them lost his head thanks to a superb shot of the masterchief, spraying a red mist on his comrade next to him. At the other end of the massive table Lars could see how the guards opened fire and were fired upon, as the bullet holes appearing in the table proved. Lars felt the impact of a solid slug in the left flakpanel of his chair. In a split second he decided to lose control of the chair. Instead of coming to a controlled stop, facing his attackers, he let it go and gave himself a push. The arbite was launched from the chair, making sure the hail of fire missed him but utterly destroyed the chair's back. He felt the smooth iron of the trigger as he pulled it and added another bullet hole in the dark brown, shining surface of the table. Another men went down, his head bursting open thanks to another buckshot hit of the masterchief. It distracted the three men that were left and had fired on the arbite and the armoured wheelchair. Lars hit the floor hard but rolled on, coming to a halt against a heavy leather couch. He pulled the trigger again. One of the guards grabbed at his throat. In a blink of an eye, Lars could see how at the far side of the room, private N'Sako stormed the table with Willis' shockmaul.

 _'Not good, Akira.'_

Then Lars focused on the remaining guards, spurred on by a slug that hit the floor just before him and another that bored itself into his shoulderguard. Grunting, Lars returned fire. Another miss, but buying enough time for Ouedrogo to sprint into the room. The giant stormed the table, like his brother in arms, spraying the table with more of his buckshots. Lars used the time to roll behind the couch. He could feel the adrenaline in his veins. Grunting, Lars stood up, crying a wordless scream, emptying his gun, covering the masterchief. At the other side N'Sako had jumped over the table and raised the shockmaul over his head, again and again. The stench of ozone and burned flesh was in the air. At his side, Ouedrogo finished off the last of the guards, one with a shot in the chest and the other with a vicious blow of the shotgun's butt.

 _'Where is Willis, Akira? And where is Aghahar?'_

Pushed on by the adrenaline, Lars stormed the table himself, just in time to see N'Sako kick an elderly man to the floor. Masterchief Ouedrogo held another man, dressed in expensive silk robes, at gunpoint. Lars retrieved his manacles and cuffed Ouedrogo's man, while N'Sako did the same to his. Moments later, Lars ran to the far left door that Willis had crashed open. He found him slumped against the doorframe, sitting in a pool of his own blood. His left arm hung forceless against his body, covered in blood, his hand holding his pistol tight. His right arm against his jaw. It wasn't enough to stop the bleeding. Lars could see it seeping through his fingers.

"Frak! Willis!" Lars yelled. The man replied but the words where drowned in his own blood. "Ouedrogo! Medkit!" Lars threw an eye on the wound in his left arm, but it was the wound in the face that concerned him the most. His fellow arbite could bleed out. Fast. Lars kneeled and clasped both his hands around Willis's face and pushed. Willis started gurgling and flailed violently with his right arm. "Keep still, frakker. Today is not your day!" Lars grunted, trying to keep the man still. Ouedrogo landed beside him and immediately grabbed a bandage to stop the bleeding. Lars looked over his shoulder. "N'Sako! Cover the hallway! There might be more of them!" Another professional acknowledgement came from the trooper. The LT had trained his troops well.

Lars took away Willis' gun but suddenly felt dizzy. The adrenaline was leaving his body and the effects of the _morbille musculu_ were taking over his body once more. Ouedrogo didn't waste time however. He applied a relatively clean bandage and sprayed it with a white can. Instantly the bleeding, which was coloring the bandage red, stopped. "Throne. What is that stuff, masterchief?" Lars asked. " _Collagium Carum_. We call it lifesaver. Something my mistress provides us with. It works wonders with open wounds." Lars frowned. "Why don't we have that _skit_?" The masterchief smiled, showing his pristine white teeth. "Too expensive for Imperium brats, sir." Lars cursed. "You don't say." While Ouedrogo set to work on the other wound, Willis grabbed Lars by his belt and whispered something, barely understandable. "Remember to desinfect the wounds, frakker." Lars couldn't help but laugh. Right until the moment the voice of Pumbo came through the vox. "You've got a problem, Lars."

At the same time N'Sako, covering the hallway leading to the room yelled. "They are coming, regulator!" Lars pointed at the door. "Backup chief!" Lars himself stood up, grunting from the effort, and walked back on trembling legs towards his chair. He couldn't afford to be immobilized completely. Behind him he could hear the sound of gunfire, but he had confidence in the two Mobatu houseguards. They had proven their worth. While he was carting back towards the two survivors of the firefight, he answered Pumbo. "I can't really use any more trouble, Pumbo. What is..." he began, but he was cut short by a startled scream of private N'Sako. "Holy feth! The ceiling is coming down!" Lars turned the wheelchair around, while Pumbo started talking again. "You need to get out of there fast regulator. Somehow the cogheads have messed up. Badly." Lars really didn't have time for this, but he knew that Pumbo was aware of that. "Explain!" he replied.

Through the middle door of the room, Lars took a peek into the hallway. At the left and the right, N'Sako and Ouedrogo had taken position against the wall. In the hallway he saw two corpses, but what was shocking, was a solid stream of fluorescent green slush streaming through the ceiling, eating away at the floor even as it gushed sideways to fill both sides of the corridor. "Throne on Terra." he whispered even as Pumbo continued to talk in his right ear. "Multiple sluice complexes at the higher levels of the hive have been opened. The acid water that is filtered to use as drinking water is being poured into the hive. The infrastructure is capable of withstanding acid rains, but not this." Lars needed to wrap his thoughts around the news before he could reply. "I'm seeing the result right before me." Pumbo cursed in Phlegethon's gang slang. "You need to get out of there. Quickly. My estimations are that the first waves are only now hitting your level, let alone when the largest mass hits your location."

 _'Warp and blast.'_

Awestruck, Lars looked at the destruction beyond N'Sako's position. Luckily, the acid had eaten throught the floor and now the stream of sludge streamed right through the hole onto the second floor, thus stopping the steady advance of the acid down the hall. "Regulator! We're not getting past that!" masterchief Ouedrogo yelled, stating the obvious. "Feth if I go through that filth!" N'Sako joined in. "We're pretty sure the main pillars of the hive will endure, so the spires are safe. You should focus on your return Lars. We can find the guilty later." Pumbo persisted and Lars could clearly hear that the man's nerves were strung out. "Got it. Lars out." the regulator replied, more out of habit then actually acknowledging what the man had said.

Lars looked around. The situation was grim. The way to his ground car was blocked. As if it would be of any use if that poison was streaming down. His partner was down and they were still in a hostile environment. Through the vox came the voice of the lieutenant. "Regulator. We're seeing numerous guards fleeing. Hold on. A few of them are coming this way. Please advise!" That was an easy decision. "Take them down!" Lars ordered. At the other side of the line, Lars heard the raw barking of an autogun. He remembered Mwambezi carrying a heavy assault rifle.

"Lieutenant. Have you secured the cutter?" Lars informed a few seconds later. "Yes, it's filled with cargo." came the immediate reply. "Anyone can fly that thing?" "Hold on." the LT snapped. The bark of the autogun was joined with the lighter bangs of the lieutenant's autopistol. "Yeah, Mwambezi could do it." the LT answered as soon as the gunfire ended. "Get that thing into the air and come pick us up." Lars said, rather nervously, "We'll figure something out. We can't come down. Hurry though!" "Copy that. I heard Pumbo's message. We're en route." The LT responded, back to his professional tone.

Lars looked at the hallway. The stream of green slush was now so strong that no sane man would try to pass it. And anyone insane enough to try, would be disolved in the blink of an eye. "N'Sako, get Willis! Chief, on me!" Lars yelled over the noise of the streaming acid. He reloaded his pistol and gave a nudge with his head to one of the windows. "We're leaving. Let's create ourselves an exit." He unloaded his clip on the window. Although the bullets went through the glass, it didn't shatter. That changed when Ouedrogo brought the shotgun to bear.

"N'Sako. We'll be leaving through there. You're getting Willis out. Chief..." Lars was brutally interrupted by the masterchief. The man issued a warning but also gave a forceful pull at the wheelchair, almost launching Lars from the chair for the second time. Moments later a stream of slush came down where the chair had stood. Lars looked at it incredulous. "It's coming down everywhere, sir." Ouedrogo reported dryly. Lars wheeled his chair towards the two cuffed men, that were lying on the carpet. He immediately recognized the Keeper. The other man bore a resemblance of the first, but he was older and his nose had a hooked quality, Aghahar's hadn't. Lars pointed at the Keeper. "Get him, chief. That's the one we need."

Immediately the other one started yammering, but the noise was soon drowned out by the wash of the jet engines of the cutter. Lars could see how Mwambezi was wrestling the stick to keep it hovering in one place. Seconds later, the door in the left side of the ship slid open to reveal the lieutenant. Ouedrogo picked up Aghahar and stormed towards the window. N'Sako did the same thing, only he was dragging Willis behind him. The arbite was too heavy for the soldier to lift. Lars started pushing his chair towards the window, dropping his weapon to gain time. A loud crashing noise, followed by a wet splash was enough to spur him on. Ahead of him, Ouedrogo lifted the Keeper over his head and threw him through the window into the cutter. Next, he helped N'Sako with Willis, almost handing him to the lieutenant far more carefully to make sure his wounds wouldn't open again. N'Sako was next to jump. Lars in the meanwhile was giving his all to drive his chair through the thick carpet. Ouedrogo turned around to come get him when suddenly the cutter swung away from the window violently. A massive wash of acid dropped over the window, hitting the masterchief in the back. The man screamed of the pain. Smoke arose from his armoured back. His short cropped black hair at the back of his head was gone. As the man fell face first to the floor, Lars could see that the bone of the skull was visible. Nevertheless, the giant rose up again.

"Get over here, fether!" he yelled. It was all Lars could do. The muscles in his arms were burning, his abs acked and the chair creaked as if it would give out any second. Ouedrogo started running and closed the distance in mere seconds. He grabbed the arbite under the shoulders, hauled him out of the chair and threw him over his left shoulder. The stench of burned flesh prickled in Lars' nose. With his right hand the masterchief grabbed the chair and with one forceful swing, he yanked it through another window, smashing it to pieces. Outside, Mwambezi pulled the stick hard and the cutter veered to the left again, crashing into the wall of the mansion. At that moment Ouedrogo jumped from the window-sill and fell into the hold, catapulting Lars against the other side of the hull.

"Get out of here, Mwam!" the LT yelled over the racket of the jet engines. But immediately another voice cut in. "No! Get my uncle!" It seemed Aghahar had come to his senses and was trying to master the situation. "No way, frakker," Lars replied, "It appears your role has come to an end. We're not risking anything for filth like you." The man wanted to stand, perhaps to gain the initiative, but he was thrown down instantly by the violent movements of the cutter. "I command it! In the name of the Holy Emperor!" he yelled, laying on his back. "You've got nothing left to command, fool!" Lars bit back, "You can only confess! Get us up, Mwambezi." Lars pulled himself up on a large flakboard crate and stepped closer to the Keeper. The man was still busy protesting. "I am the Keeper of the Cardinal's Seal. I am a Bishop of the Holy Throne! Who do you think you..."

But Lars had had it. Pulling from his lasts reserves, he grabbed the man by his silk robes and hauled him towards the open door. Acid rain blew through the opening, spattering both Lars and the bishop. It burned his face, but at this point he no longer cared. "You've got one chance to confess, frakhead." Aghahar was baffled. "But..." "Who is in from the Mechanicus?!" Lars yelled. This hardly was the way to conduct a thorough interrogation, but Lars recognized a moment to take advantage of the professional politician's weak moment. "No, you don't..." the man started. With all the strength he had left in him, he swung the bishop out of the opening. The man grabbed the edge of the door and held on for his dear life. Seeing how the man was still there, Lars repeated his question. "Who?!" With one look on the ocean, perhaps a few thousand metres beneath him, the Keeper of the Seal broke. "Mech-deacon Muga/5." Lars persisted. "Who else is in on this?" "The administrator general of hive Orpheus. Get me insi..." begged the bishop. "Who else?!" Lars grabbed the man by the wrist and in his eyes there was no promise of pulling the dangling man up. Rather the opposite. "Chief protectors Bujumbu and Tanzaya of the enforcer corps." The man started pleading for his life, but Lars could hardly hear any of it over the sound of the rushing air. "Lars!" yelled someone in the cabin.

Lars turned around and saw the LT pointing at the flakboard crate. N'Sako had opened it and stared at a metalic, bellshaped object. Lars recognized it immediately. It was the last of the missing virus bombs. He turned back to Aghahar. "In the name of the Holy Emperor, I hereby sentence you to death for treason of the Imperium." The incredulous look on Aghahar's face was his only reaction, before Lars kicked at the man's hand, forcing him to lose his grip on the door. With a surprised yell of pain, the man slid out of the opening, falling to his dead below in the acidic ocean, giving the man ample opportunity to embrace his fate.

"Get us home, LT." was the last thing Lars brought out, before slumping to the floor.


	27. Chapter 27: Recovery

_+++6.287.986.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++The Unwanting Revenge - Training room+++_

Lars gasped and fell to the floor. "Frak this _skit_!" A calm and reasonable voice answered. "Mind your language regulator. Get up. Again!" Lars cursed some more under his breath, but he got up once more. "You're doing alright regulator. Just a few more times."

Lars didn't bother to continue cursing. Better to spare his breath and get through this. Grunting he got up and grabbed the rope that was hanging from the ceiling. Hand over hand, he started climbing the thing, again. Not making use of his legs. Below him, Frank Horrigan watched him. They were the only two men in the large hall. So Lars wasn't surprised when Horrigan started discussing his last case again.

"So, if all this is correct, how come they had to send in a regiment of the guard to calm things down?" the man yelled, pointing at a passage in Lars' report. Lars shifted his attention from the rope to the man below. He could see that he had put at least five meters between himself and his tutor. With clenched jaws, he yelled back. "That's... because... the other... frak... never... budged." Below, he could see how Frank shook his head dismissively. Lars couldn't waste more time looking on and continued his struggle to reach the top platform the rope led to.

"What are your thoughts about that? Why didn't Wess do something?" Horrigan seemed not to notice the precarious position Lars found himself in. Of course Lars knew that this was part of the exercise, but he didn't really like it. It had been a fall from about this height that had been the start of all his misery. Getting back in shape now, felt much harder than basic training about a year and a half ago.

 _'Of course it's much harder. The Adeptus Arbites medical staff have confirmed Patrice's fear and the Mobatu doctor's prognoses. You'll never regain all your strength, Akira.'_

He just came at the edge of the platform, when Horrigan yelled up again. "I haven't got all day, regulator! What about Wess!?" Lars didn't look down and let his anger seep into his voice. "Yeah... Well... How would... I... know... Frank?" With a final effort, Lars hauled himself onto the platform and tried to catch his breath. He felt lucky he didn't have to do the exercises in full combat gear. Frank had pushed him to do so two days ago, but it had resulted in Lars crashing to the ground, trice, while he was taking the obstacle course. But he felt thankful all the same. Arthur could more easily have picked someone else to take his place, sending him away. But instead the judge, true to his form, had said "No worries, old chap. Frank will get you back in shape. Poor sod. Haha.". Neither Frank or Lars had laughed much afterwards, but still. Lars felt that he was making progress. And way more than when he was in the care of the Mobatu doctor.

"That's not a satisfying answer regulator! What about Wess?" Frank persisted, still acting calm and composed, even if Lars was showing his frustrations. The question he asked, was one Lars had asked himself a thousand times by now. After recovering the last of the bombs, Lars had set course to the Mechanicus shrine that had started with the recovery of the contents of the _Menapi Volantis_. He had prayed that this particular shrine wasn't part of the conspiracy and the Emperor had heard him. When he arrived, they too were reeling of the shock that their precious hive, and more specifically, their lower level research facilities, were being ravaged by a tidal wave of acid. But at least the bombs were safe and his recovery mission had come to an end.

So Lars had started looking at Wess' disappearance. Pumbo's network had been the key once more, even though the information hadn't come in as smoothly as before. He remembered distinctly how the bald man had been cursing over the dreadful business of the flood. More than the riots, the acid had taken out large parts of his network. Nevertheless, they had tracked down Wess to another hive. Lars had sent him his findings through a secure line and offered assistance. But the other man had told him that in his current state, Lars, nor Willis for that matter, could help him. And he had done so quite bluntly. It had been the last thing Lars had heard from the man.

"It's all there, Frank. We never established contact after the transfer. And since he had told me to sod off, I didn't really try to do so either." Lars replied, trying to catch his breath. The other man shook his head ever so slightly. "So you left the place in shambles..." Lars looked down at Horrigan eight meters lower. With a sharp movement of his hand, Horrigan ordered him down. Lars smiled because going down was a lot easier than going up. And with each time he went down, the chance that this session would come to an end, grew larger.

"I thought you... of all people... would understand." Lars said, making sure he didn't fall of the rope as he descended. "Understand what?" "That it wasn't... my... jurisdiction." Lars uttered, genuinely surprised that Horrigan hadn't picked up on that little detail himself. When he stood beside Frank, the man nodded and answered in a softer voice, abandoning the drill sergeant routine. "Of course I understand Lars. You were right to hand the case back to him. It just feels wrong to read these reports and be confronted with the total failure afterwards. I'm sure you feel the same way."

Lars did feel the same way. Heading for the translation point in his hired ship, had been one of the saddest moments of his life. Only a week earlier he had received a visit of bishop Kinshi, pleading to assist cardinal Matonge-Kivu III. With the disappearance of Aghahar Cassiopus, Keeper of the Cardinal Seal, Lars had thought the cardinal would have had his hands free to get a tighter grip on the power of Phlegethon's Ecclesiarchy. The contrary had been true apparently.

The cardinal's opposition had interpreted Aghahar's disappearance as a sign that hostilities had been opened. On top of the chaos the sluice debacle had caused, the schisma the cardinal had tried to avoid, presented itself. Parishes were put up against parishes and priests declared other priests heretics. It had been a bigger mess than Lars had ever witnessed. The Dispensaria riots had meant nothing in comparison to this second wave of violence. Kinshi had begged for Lars to assist the cardinal. Getting Imperial law at his side might have meant that he could claim the moral high ground. But Lars hadn't felt he could afford the Ecclesiarchy any more time. He had been busy trying to find a ship secure enough to transport his deadly cargo. And he was doing all he could to protect it in an environment that turned more chaotic and dangerous with every passing day. He had directed Kinshi towards Wess. It had been the best he could do.

"Yeah Frank. It all stinks." Lars agreed and the other man could see it was heartfelt. Getting back into the case made Lars feel bitter. Not just because what he had lost there, but also because of how he had left the men and women who had helped him succeed at his mission. "Haven't you been able to find anything out about this frakker Wess? You're connected." Lars asked. "Yeah, I'm connected Lars, or more accurately, Arthur is connected." The tutor confirmed and corrected. Lars snorted. They both knew that Arthur Belloran was far too disorganized to sustain any kind of network. If he needed something, he would throw in his boyish charm, which, to Lars' amazement, continued to work without flaw.

"But not that well connected. We maintain close ties with the other Arbites assigned to the fleet and Imperial space, but with our colleagues that prefer solid ground under their feet, we've got less rapport." "Still..." Lars tried. "Still, I've been able to dig up more intel on this Wess chap," Horrigan continued, "He certainly seems to be legit, paperwise. But he has been undercover for more than ten Terran years. Emperor knows what has befell the man." Lars already knew this, and it was a big uncertainty. Frank saw that Lars was thinking it over again. "You were there Lars. Did he strike you as imbalanced? Incapable? Or even corrupted?" Lars shook his head after a short pauze. "No. He didn't. Well. It all depends... If you think that being a major crimelord is a sign of corruption, he might have been. on the other hand, if I could pick a role to uncover enemies of the Imperium, I'd take that one without thinking twice..." Now it was Frank's turn to persue. "So?" But Lars only shrugged. "I guess it is possible he became tainted. But he wasn't part of the conspiracy to capture the bombs. Nor do I think he was in on the whole destruction of Phlegethon's infrastructure."

 _'But if he had been, he has done a perfect job, Akira.'_

"So, in hindsight, any more ideas on how all these incidents fitted into each other?" Frank asked, and Lars could tell that this was part of the training again. Just not the physical training. "... I've been thinking... It just seems too much of a coincedence that we got a petition of the Phlegethon Planetary Defence Force, right before our departure." Frank clearly was in agreement. "Yes. I've seen that passage in your rapport. It seemed like it was a bit... too convenient." Seeing how Frank shared his suspicions, Lars speculated some more. "I still don't know how they managed to track us down, other than a mole within the Mechanicus cult. Or perhaps we were just not careful enough while booking passage. You can imagine what a _skitstorm_ it was at hive Styx's spaceport. Virtually everybody wanted to leave..." "Except for lady Niala." Frank interposed. "Yeah, except for her... Anyway, it's quite possible that we frakked up by looking for an armoured transport. If I would be looking for someone who was trying to smuggle away some WMD's, I'd know where to look too. There just wasn't enough time to build up a proper cover. And even if we had had the time, the circumstances were so... chaotic, that it probably wouldn't have worked." Lars could see that Frank was now thinking it over too.

 _'Probably not the first time he's doing that Akira.'_

After a while, his tutor spoke up. "So how come the petition wasn't followed by something more serious, say, a company of the local PDF?" Lars shook his head. He simply didn't know and told Frank as much. "I'm not sure. Perhaps they didn't think they could take on the Mechanicus on this? Maybe it was a lack of time to put things in motion. Or maybe, the conspirators weren't as organised as we think? The fact that they started killing off top level figures - no way that Aghahar would have escaped that acid overflow - even before everything was secured, isn't a sign of a good organisation. Perhaps we just got lucky?"

As soon as he had finished his sentence, Lars knew he had made a mistake. Or at least so he tought, judging by the mean grin on Horrigan's face. "Climb that rope again regulator! There is no such thing as luck! And if there is, you're not allowed to use it as an excuse." Lars raised his hands, still breathing heavily from the last exercise. "Ok, I take that back. But anyway, pick a reason. I couldn't tell you why they weren't knocking on our door."

"Maybe this can explain it, chaps!" Frank and Lars looked up, only to see Arthur striding in with a look of absolute smug on his face. Lars could hear Frank groaning softly and understood that, if Belloran actually had found the answer to that last question, he would be quite insufferable for everyone in his vicinity for the next few weeks. And since Frank passed a significant amount of time in the presence of the judge each day, it would be most hard on him. "Look what I found!" the judge yelled, waving a dataslate over his head. "I've been looking at those data you were so kind to deliver Frank. And my inkling has rung true. The reason why they didn't insist on you handing over the bombs, was that they had no way of firing them. Look here."

Frank took the slate from the judge and Lars looked over his shoulder to see what Arthur had found. It was a file with lines and lines of data. Each starting with a prozaic or less prozaic name, which Lars recognized almost immediately as ships, because who else would be named HU-554.69 - apart from a techpriest of course who adored that kind of crap names. On closer inspection, Lars could see that all these ships had Phlegethon as destination. Dozens of transports, cargo or passengers were lined up, one after another. Until Frank scrolled over yet another name: _Warrior of the Warp_. Lars told him to hold it. It wasn't another cargoship with a egotistical captain. The technical references indicated it was an armoured ship, a small class frigate of some sorts. But the idenitifaction number didn't fit with Navy code.

"What is it, Arthur?" Lars asked hesitantly. The question caused the smugness to spread all over the judge's face, which was exactly why Lars had hesitated. "This ship has been decomissioned by the Imperial Navy, but good things don't go to waste, so it was transferred to the Phlegethon's Space Defence Force. Look at the estimated arrival time. It would arrive in system only a few days after the sluice incidents. And," the judge opened another file on the dataslate, "with a few modifications it could be used to launch those bombs you recovered."

Belloran put away the slate and his voice turned a bit more serious. "All this stinks, gentlemen, and it needs to be sorted out. Frank. Prepare a briefing for young Willis. He will be going back to Phlegethon to pick up the captain of the _Warrior of the Warp_. Preposterous name by the way, don't you think?" Lars nodded, not really paying attention to the quality of the ship's name. He was more focused on the fact that Willis would be back in the field, way before him. And that the man would have the chance to meet up with lady Niala. Lars hadn't been able to say his goodbyes properly. The lady, who he had come to see as a friend, would have scolded him for leaving Phlegethon in a hurry when things were falling apart, but still he had wanted to see her. It felt like an open wound. It had been one more thing to chastisize himself over during their retreat to the translation point.

"I'll get on it, Arthur." Frank replied, disturbing Lars in his reveries. Arthur had picked up on his mood as well and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Lars, old chap. I think I saw some traces of regret there. Don't worry though, old chap. I'll be taking you with me soon enough. The fact of the matter is that the captain of the Warrior is only a tiny shrimbster in comparison to the man who decommissioned it and sent it to Phlegethon in the first place. That will be our prey. So nothing to worry, good man. You'll be right into the action before you know it."

And with that Lars knew he could expect another training tomorrow, probably with Belloran himself, because who else could teach you how to bash in heretic's skulls properly.

* * *

So, this is the last chapter of the story built around the _Menapi Volantis._ I received some positive reviews, some to which I couldn't reply. So thank you for that. It's a great motivator to write more.

As always, comments and remarks are welcome. Expect a new storyline soon.


	28. Chapter 28: Arrival at The Hole

_+++5.553.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Khurry Spaceport - Enforcer HQ+++_

Lars counted to ten in his head. Slowly. The officer before him was wearing his patience thin. The man before him was easily the slowest, most sluggish man he had ever encountered. And he was a paper pusher that would put Frank Horrigan to shame, although that wasn't entirely fair on Frank's part since the man could hardly be downplayed as a pure administrator. To top it off, the low gothic variant people spoke on The Hole was uncomprehensible at the best of times. The soft voice and the lisping of the man before him made it near impossible to understand what the man was saying.

Lars looked through the large glass windows of the command tower of the enforcer's HQ to the south. The largest of the two suns of The Hole had already disappeared behind the flat horizon and its smaller brother was rapidly sinking as well, leaving the city of Khurry in a vague pinkish light. The command tower wasn't the highest building of the city but only a few temples and cathedrals to the south rose up even higher. As he approached the city in the lighter, Lars had seen how the rest of the city had consisted of mostly squat stone buildings, the largest only three stories high. They were built in a chaotic way, leaving a maze of little streets and alleyways with only a few straight freeways cutting through the city.

In the meanwhile, the colonel before him droned on. "... the three Rhino's you've requested, to be concrete, vehicle type RH-655 with optional weapon packs FH-52 and FN-68... Well, they are simply not mine to give you, regulator. If you would have followed requisition procedure Consequt type II or type VI, I might have been able to overcome the procedure, but..."

As Lars turned his gaze to the north, he could see quite another scene. Large pillars of smoke were rising from a dozen sources in the city and occasionally you could see a puff of grey smoke near the outer limits of the city, coming from the ancient cannons on the city walls. As soon as they had gotten the city in view, Lars had tapped into the vox communications of the local enforcers, using his standard Adeptus Arbites override codes. Only minutes later it seemed that his mission had turned from an easy pick-up op into a messy and perhaps foolish operation.

The enforcer officer didn't seem to notice that Lars was studying the view and was still giving him excuse after excuse why Lars couldn't count on the local enforcers. "... so without the proper seals, especially the golden seal of Reclamation, it is truly beyond my possibilities to aid you in your requests. Would you have possessed a pass, type Denuntior-3 or higher, I would have been able to cut the red tape and..."

Lars suddenly interrupted the incessant blundering of the colonel before him. The Denuntior pass had been something Frank had insisted upon during the many hours of administrative training.

"So there is a way to cut the red tape!" Lars said, perhaps even crying out. "I'm happy to hear you say it, colonel Brahma'Ustan. It so happens Judge Belloran has been so good to provided me with an Adeptus Arbites security pass of fourth degree, a Praesidio-4. I'm sure you are aware that this is equal to a regular Denuntiator pass of type 5 or higher."

The colonel that stood before him, looked quite dumbfounded at Lars. Lars scraped his throat and pointed at the small scroll which had the judge's personal seal stamped on it. Lars had taken it out of the leather pocket and had handed it over to the officer to backbone his requests, but he had grossly underestimated the knowledge and sluggishness of the colonel. Finally, the colonel reacted to this new information. "... Arhum... Yes... It would appear that you have indeed the right to invoke your rights thusly..." Lars would swear that the man was on the brink of losing his phlegm, but then the dark brown, almost black eyes, turned back to face him. "Yes. We will comply with your wishes." the man offered. Lars smiled. Just a bit too soon.

"However, there is still a minor problem." the officer began again. Lars' smile faded. "The vehicle pool is as good as empty. We will only be able to give you a single Rhino." Lars shrugged, only slightly dissatisfied. "One will have to do then," the regulator said, "Be so kind to provide a single squad of your enforcers to assist me in my mission. I'm sure the same Praesidio pass will grant me this."

Lars didn't wait on a reply from the colonel. He had wasted enough time already. He gave the man the smallest of salutes possible and turned on his heels to head out of the command tower at a brisk pace. If he wanted to pick up his contact, he couldn't afford any more delays. The man had to live in the northern part of Khurry. Of course. Why would things be easy for a change.

* * *

 _+++5.553.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Downtown Khurry- Enforcer Rhino "Shiva's Risja"+++_

The loud rumbling noise of the engine coming from the front of the vehicle, echoed through the cabin of the Rhino. The enforcer troopers were sitting down on the spartan steel benches at both sides of the vehicle. Lars stood next to the little ladder which led to the heavy stubber mounted on top of the Rhino. Although it was a bumpy ride - they had traded in the smooth surface of the freeway after ten minutes of driving for a rough road paved with black cobblestones of the Khurry streets - Lars remained upright, looking over the small detail.

At his left, he saw three troopers, all dark skinned, long black hair coming from under their Ashford-pattern helmets. They were armed with standard issue Mark III lasguns and although their flak armour was painted in a dirty yellow, it were decent suits. As a backup weapon they were carrying compact laspistols. On his right side sat another two troopers, one with the same outfit, but with sergeant chevrons on his right shoulder pad and a hotshot lasgun instead of the regular Mark III. The other one was armed with something rather less standard. The woman's lasgun was reinforced at the sides and had three barrels instead of one. One could recognize the Mark III lasgun that laid at the base of the improvised contraption, but any techpriest within his right mind would surely disapprove of it.

"Trooper... Trooper Vishna. What the frak is that thing you are carrying?" Lars asked, curious about this deviation. Although Lars had adressed the woman, it was the sergeant who spoke up. "She isn't a trooper, regulator. She's more of a hired gun. She's got certain privileges, like that thing she's carrying." When the sergeant spoke up, Lars noticed an annoyed look on Vishna's face. She clearly didn't appreciate the sergeant speaking for her, but seeing her attitude, Lars assumed she'd been told a few hundred times to respect her superiors, even if she wasn't actually with the enforcers.

Ignoring Vishna's rolling eyes, Lars adressed the sergeant. "And why would the enforcers bring in hired guns, sergeant Akhil?" "Because with all that _telek_ downtown, we're out of fire power." the sergeant replied a bit blunt, perhaps annoyed by that situation and the fact that he had to admit it. Lars gestured to continue. He had only made planetfall three hours ago and he hadn't had the time to look into the current situation of Khurry.

"It began with the usual." the sergeant explained, "Two gangs, perhaps three, who were at each other's throats to take over territory. We all thought that it would die out pretty soon, like a _geni_ coming to the edge of the _ara-ara sum_. But then, it all went to _ora becik_ pretty fast. I'm not really sure what just happened, just that all of the northern districts are in disarray. And that we've been ordered to calm things down."

During the sergeant's explanation, Lars observed a mocking smile playing around the corners of Vishna's mouth. He looked her in the eyes, but the smile disappeared and made place for her expression of annoyance of before. "Since then, we've sent in multiple squads," the sergeant continued, "But it seems that the gangs are persistent. But although the collumns of smoke might be impressive, it's nothing that we can't handle, regulator." The sergeant didn't seem to impressed with the Arbite standing before him.

Lars didn't ask any more questions and remained silent. The situation here played on a scale several degrees lower than the Phlegeton riots. Khurry counted perhaps five to ten percent of the population of the hive Lars had left behind.

"So, what do you have in mind for us, regulator?" Akhil asked, "We weren't supposed to be on duty when we suddenly got orders to report to the motor pool." Lars took another look at the troopers. Apart from Vishna, they all seemed reliable chaps: simple and straight enforcers. He now understood a bit better why the sergeant had been brooding since they met. Doing overtime during a crisis isn't something most officers enjoyed.

"We're on our way to the Barren." Lars answered. " I've got an informer there that we need to pick up." Lars hesitated to tell the men more. According to the briefing papers he got from Frank Horrigan, the man, Talmai Radashendra, had an excellent network that he used to track down smugglers and traffickers. He had provided Belloran with prime information on smuggling routes and Horrigan had assured him that thanks to him the judge had been able to take out parts of the Kerviel Cartel with limited means. But a month ago, Belloran had received a message from the man that things were heating up and that he needed a ticket out. Lars would serve as that ticket. He had gotten a description and an adress of the man, not much to go on, but Frank had thought that it would be enough. And Lars had agreed, because it was a rather straight forward mission after all.

 _'Just the thing for you to get back in shape, Akira. A nice little thing without complications. Right...'_

As there came no other questions, Lars let it at that and concentrated on his grip as the Rhino bounced onwards. It only took another ten minutes to arrive at their destination. When they seceded from the vehicle, Lars could see that this assignement would cause a lot more aggravation than he had expected. The only thing left of Talmai's house was a pile of blackened rocks.

 _'Frak, Akira. Just what you needed. Even more complications.'_

Lars looked up and down the street. Two hundred metres to the south was a crossroad and another one about three hundred metres to the north. Both sides of the street consisted of lines of black stone houses, with small woorden doors and straight, narrow windows. With a little imagination, those windows could be firing slits. Although the presence of the Rhino had cleared the street, Lars could see movement behind some of the windows, and he heard yelling further down the street.

"Sergeant. Set up a defensive perimeter. Gunner, cover the north." he ordered. While the men moved out, Lars beckoned Vishna closer. He walked towards the smoking pile of rocks and smouldering wooden beams to create some distance between them and the other troopers. "You were smirking back in the Rhino." he began. Vishna shrugged and didn't comment. So Lars insisted. "Don't deny it. This isn't about discipline. You seem to know more and as it seems that my stay here will be prolonged, I'd like to know as much as possible about the local situation."

Briefly, Lars saw another expression on Vishna's face. Now that she wasn't spoken for, nor being berated, Lars could see a calculating look in her eyes. He waited patiently for her answer as he waded into the ruins, stepping over a torn matress that laid half on the street. Finally, she conceded. "Well, regulator. Only because you asked so nicely."

Lars didn't bother to look up. He could picture her perfectly, a little smile playing around her lips, a look of interest on her face. It seemed like he had gambled and won. Vishna was highly motivated, but just needed some room to play.

"The sergeant's story isn't completely wrong." the trooper started, "This _kekacoan_ did start with a turf war. However, before it escalated, it had changed in something else. Rumour has it that one of the gangs stepped on something bigger in their quest for territory. Some of the locals, those who haven't got much to lose, will tell you that some blocks are in the hands of _Kaptin_ Kamal. That doesn't tell you much, but captain Kamal is the chief of the HWMV-unit around here. Apparently, he has some _ekstras_ on the side, if you catch my drift. One of the new kids on the block, didn't know he was messing with the _Kaptin_. Kamal's reaction was way out of proportion and caused a lot of collateral. Which made the established order of the underworld reel. And caused all this _becik_."

Lars thought about it, as he sifted through some shelves that had miraculously survived the fire. The HWMV-unit - short for Heavy Weapons, Maximum Violence - was something he had heard of before. Especially on frontier worlds, were the citizenry was stronger and more fierce than the average hive scum, governors installed these units because they needed a wolf to keep the dogs in check. Most of the time these units saw little active duty since, as a rule of thumb, they caused as much damage as they prevented. But these units had proven their worth time and again in the most dire circumstances. But if these frakkers were protecting illicit revenues, Lars could understand that the fear and resentment that accompanied these units, had grown to rage and rebellion. Even if it was a battle they couldn't win.

A loud explosion to the northwest, disturbed Lars in his thoughts.

 _'A battle they couldn't win conventionally, Akira. with the right tactics though..._ '

While he studied a medallion laying beneath some burned cloth, Lars dismissed his thoughts about the HWMV and the _Kaptin_. He was here to find Belloran's contact and the fact that the neighbourhood was on fire, was just a circumstance that had to be overcome.

As he stood up, he looked at Vishna. The mercenary was digging through the debris as well. He was just going to ask her if she had had any luck, when his eye caught a small girl on the flat roof opposite of Radashendra's house. She had pulled some kind of blanket over her head and kept a close eye on the troopers in the street. He stared in the distance, pretending he hadn't seen the kid, but when he looked back at Vishna, he saw her staring at exactly the same spot.

 _'Don't...'_

But it was too late. The staring of the arbite, followed by the look from the mercenary had been enough to spook the girl. With a dash, she stood up and ran onto the rooftop, out of view of Lars and Vishna. Lars cursed and opened his vox channel. "Sergeant Akhil, we've had a little spy. Rooftop of the opposite house. Surround it!"

The sergeant's men stormed the house and used their lasguns to batter open the sturdy wooden door. The sergeant himself ran towards the house next door and tried to do the same there, but it was all too little and too late. Lars was just thinking of reassembling everybody in the Rhino - with the riots, he expected a hit in about five minutes - when he saw a flash of yellow storming past him. Vishna had swung her improvised lasgun over her shoulder and was now climbing the front of the house with a dazzling speed. The wall was quite rough, so the woman could jump from point to point and reached the top of the two story building in less than fifteen seconds. Lars could only admire her skill. Only seconds later, Vishna started reporting.

"Hostile in sight... Closing to twenty meters... Hostile heading towards the street... Intercepting... Ugh... Yeah, got her chief. Come pick me up. I'm in the street parallel to yours. I've got locals taking an interest."

Lars bellowed his orders and the men scrambled to the Rhino. From the other side of the building they could hear a strange stuttering with an undertone of the cracking noise of a lasgun. "Really could use some backup here!" Vishna reported over the vox, breathing heavily.

Lars could hear that Vishna was still in control, but the tone of her voice betrayed the beginning of fear, or perhaps the realization that she was in more trouble than she could handle. A Rhino wasn't the fastest vehicle though and with the distance to be covered, providing they immediately found their way in this maze, it might take several minutes before they would reach Vishna's location.

 _'Time for some creativity, Akira. Belloran style.'_

Lars hit the activation rune of the onboard vox system of the Rhino. "Gunner close the top hatch! Driver, take a shortcut. Ram us through!" Next he looked to the sergeant and the troopers whose brown skin was notibly paler now. Even though the Rhino was the sturdiest vehicle the Khurry enforcers could muster, they weren't exactly sure _Shiva's Risja_ was built for this kind of demolition works. They could all hear how the driver revved the engine, raising the ruckus of the engine to near insufferable levels and when the loud bang of the top hatch being shut rang through the vehicle, the man at the wheel didn't hesitate. With a loud sheer, the Rhino veered off and only seconds later the enthusiastic driver - Lars would have to ask the name of this daredevil - crashed into the front wall. The men in the passenger compartment were thrown against the floor. Lars barely managed to keep his grip on the bar over his head. But after another two bashes, the crash through the outer wall, made him lose his grip too. Loudly cursing, he tried to stand up, meanwhile giving the gunner the order to cover Vishna's position. The noise of the heavy stubber barking and the brass casings falling through the hatch were hardly necessary to spur the men on. Storming from the interior they ran out into the street so Lars could take stock of the opposition.

Vishna was crouching in a small porch, actually sitting on the girl that had spied on them. Two bodies lay before her with smoking gunwounds in their back. Apparently the modifications made her gun quite effective, but three more were sneaking up on her, obviously more cautious than their comrades now that they had witnessed Vishna's capabilities. But even as Lars broke his cover, the burst of the heavy stubber was enough to disperse the men. Although the gunner didn't manage to hit anybody, the threat had been lifted... For now. Lars could easily imagine the local gang massing their troops for another go. But within a minute all the enforcers were back aboard and the girl lay cuffed on the floor of the Rhino.

"Let's find us a calmer place, gentlemen!" Lars said, happy to have at least some lead in this chaos.


	29. Chapter 29: Radashendra

_+++5.553.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++The Barren (downtown Khurry) - Majumdar's Motor House+++_

After the fight, they had raced off, but hadn't left the Barren. Sergeant Akhil had directed them to Majumdar's Motor House, another black stone house with a wide shoddy metal gate. Inside, Lars had been surprised to see that Majumdar actually had a garage with room for a few dozen groundcars and enough equipment to make a junior engineseer drool. Apparently one of Akhil's troopers was a nephew of Majumdar and after a few words of the trooper with the chief mechanic, they parked the Rhino at the far end of the depot and were left alone.

Now, Lars found himself alone with the girl. He had contemplated a variety of reasons for the presence of the girl at Radashendra's house: a spy for one of the gangs, a spy for the _Kaptin_ , or maybe, she was with Radahendra himself. Whatever it was, she might know where to find his contact.

The girl had reclined to one of the corners of the passengers compartiment of the Rhino. Now that Lars could observe her properly, he could see that she was dressed in the typical attire of the Khurry citizenry: A roughly weaven, brown dress, with long sleaves without further adornments. She wore a single earring, but the little stone that had been set in it, had fallen out. Her face was smeared with dirt and her thick black hair had been cut short rather sloppyly.

Lars had borrowed a few pieces of equipment of Majumdar's mechanics, a crowbar, a pair of pliers and a blowtorch. He wasn't planning on using them - it was only a kid after all - but setting the right mood for this conversation would bring him a lot closer to his objective.

"What's your name, kid?" he began. The girl looked at him defiantly, clearly not impressed by the collection of prosaic tools. "Deepa. What's it to you, _bajin_?" Lars took a step closer and lowered his voice. "Let's keep this conversation on a friendly basis, shall we? ... So Deepa. What were you looking for on that rooftop? You weren't gonna get a lot of alms up there, so I'm guessing someone set you up there." The kid didn't change her attitude. "Don't know if I can tell you, _bokon_. Why were you there?"

Lars sighed. He could look past the disrespect, but not the attitude. So he grabbed the pliers and pointed them at her. "Look, I'm regulator Akira. Adeptus Arbites. I'm not one of the locals that you can fool or play with. It just doesn't work like that." With a snap he clasped the pliers shut to emphasize his tone. "I'll be asking questions. And you'll be answering them. And that's the last friendly reminder you'll get. Don't you think anything else." He didn't grin or scowl. He just talked to her like he was stating some boring facts. Internally, Lars felt uneasy though. He rather wanted this girl to talk without having to resort to torture. But if his mission demanded it, he would.

He looked closely at the girl's expression and although the girl still offered him a cool attitude, Lars could see that he had her rattled. He could see many scratches and a few bruises on her hands, so she probably got punished physically regularly, so it wasn't the prospect of pain that scared her. He could see in her eyes that it was fear of the unknown. Although this girl was streetwise, she'd never had a run in with an arbite. Lars decided to play that out.

"I'm looking for Talmai Radashendra. I need to speak with him. Urgently. You were hiding near his house. So, I'm asking you again, why were you there? What were you looking for?" Lars immediately saw a change in attitude in the girl after he asked his questions. The girl started talking immediately, eagerly now. "I am working for Talmai, sir. He asked me to keep an eye on his house after he had to run. He said: 'Deepa. When there's someone that comes knocking to my door, you take a good look and come tell me.' He also said that he would double my pay if I managed to find out who came looking for him." Lars took a step back and laid down the pliers, feeling relieved. "So, where can I find him, Deepa?" he asked, giving the kid a smile. The regulator kept checking for signs of deceit though. Deepa looked like she survived on the streets, which meant that she would have learned to lie through her teeth if life on The Hole was anything like elsewhere in the Imperium. "Further north, sir. Although I would suggest you leave your ride and switch it for another. The gangs are going crazy, attacking any officers that are separated from the main force. And although Talmai always tells me to stay out of trouble, I'm not sure how he would react to your Rhino on his doorstep."

Lars tried to gauge the girl's responses. Her answer seemed honest enough. And although he had been intimidating her, it didn't feel like something she had said out of desperation.

"Ok. I'll take your advice." Lars conceded. But before the girl could get too comfortable, he added. "But you're coming with me. You seem to know your way around." Lars could see the disappointment in her eyes. "And I'll pay you handsomely for your services, Deepa." he continued, "How about fourty thrones."

Lars didn't really know what currency they were exactly using in downtown Khurry, but the amount he had mentioned would surely be enough for the girl to be out of trouble the next couple of months. Immediately he could see that her interest was back and he could see how she was forming her first question. "I'm not paying you anything up front, though." Lars interrupted her, "With the arbites we need results first."

Lars left the Rhino and returned the equipment to the mechanic. Next he adressed Akhil. "Sergeant. It seems we will follow different paths from here. The girl knows where to find my contact, but the Rhino will attract unwanted attention. I'll head out from here. You can return to HQ. I'll just borrow your specialist. An extra gun won't stick out too much, but it might make the difference if we run into trouble."

The sergeant acknowledged the orders and saluted him. Lars thought he saw something, perhaps a bit of annoyance with Lars picking apart his unit, but the man turned on his heels and reorganized his men. In the meanwhile Lars convinced Majumdar that it would be in his best interest to borrow him one of the ground cars in the garage. With the exchange of a handshake and another purse of his thrones, they separated quite amicably.

* * *

 _+++5.554.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Downtown Khurry - The Barren+++_

"Here it is, sir. Just to your right." Deepa pointed at a muddy and rather tight street. Lars didn't bother with the indicators of the sturdy Chennai 4x4. He was too busy with keeping an eye on his surroundings. The street Deepa sent him in, was barely more than an alleyway. Once inside, Lars could see that it was a dead end, and that he would have to drive to the end of the street to make a turn. He could also see three figures on the rooftops left and right from the alley, one of them carrying a grenade launcher. They didn't seem too worried by the sight of the groundcar, but then again, they could set this situation to their hand in an instant.

"Not the best tactical position to be in, regulator." Vishna added, rather unhelpfully stating the obvious. Lars ignored her comment and drove on through deep puddles of dirty, brown water, splashing the car and the houses with it, until he came at the end of the street. He drove it close to the right side of the road and with a creaking noise, pulled up the handbrake.

"So now what Deepa. We just walk in?" the regulator asked. "That would be a change of pace." Vishna said, rather dryly. "Just keep an eye on those men, Vishna." Lars answered a bit annoyed. "So tell me Deepa, what did Talmai tell you to do." The girl shrugged and kept looking out of the windscreen. "Well... Just walk in and give the password." From the back seat Lars heard a soft snicker.

He peered through the dirty windows and saw a ragtag interface unit attached to the wall next to the plain brown wooden door. He was just about to turn towards the kid, when she added: "The password is _angkatan laut sakabèhé._ " Lars cursed. "Yeah, why make things easy huh. Stupid frak. Say that again?"

As Deepa repeated the sentence a few times, Lars couldn't shake the feeling that he had had enough of the complications. After all, it was this guy who had asked for an evac. And now here he was, launching himself right into a dirty turf war, banging on doors and memorizing stupid slang passwords that didn't even remotely resemble decent low gothic.

"Strange password for this place." Vishna commented when Lars finally had mastered the pronounciation of the local argot. "Why? What does it mean?" he asked, looking at the mercenary via the rear view mirror. "Navy over all." she answered. "Yeah, you got all kinds of crazy with us." Lars agreed.

 _'And stupid too. Why would he pick a password that leads to his connection, Akira.'_

Lars remembered from the file that Radashendra had been a navy NCO before he settled down here on The Hole. His usefulness was tied to the man's past. The majority of his time he had served on the one of the Navy's patrol cruisers, _The Swordsman_. With his patrols he had covered the whole of the subsector. And had made contacts in many ports on many worlds.

"Ok, kid." Lars said after a short pauze, "You head to the door and give the password. I'm not sure they'll understand me when I give it. I'll follow you. Vishna, keep your weapon at the ready, but stay by the car. If this turns ugly, you'll have to supress those men on the roof while we get back in the car. Let's do it."

Lars gently opened the car door and walked to the building entrance. Deepa stepped out from the Chennai and accompanied him. Vishna retrieved a pack of _Beedi_ -sticks - the local equivalent of lho-sticks, she had told him, only a bit more spicy - and lit one, while she casually let her improved Mark III lasgun slip from her shoulder. Lars pressed the worn blue button of the interface and heard a bothersome buzzer at the other end. Half a minute later, the answer, however short, came. " _Ya_?"

Lars lifted Deepa up who said the password, loud and clear. At the other end the voice remained silent. With an electronic click the door opened and swung inside. Lars could see how the wooden door had been reinforced with durasteel bars - not enough to keep a professional out, but good enough to withstand most assaults - and he beckoned Vishna to join them. The room beyond smelled bad, like fungus, and was empty, naught for a stairwell to the first floor and a door at the back, leading onwards.

Before they could wonder where to go, someone appeared at the top of the stairs. The lighting was pretty bad, so Lars could barely make out if it was a man or a woman, but beside him, Deepa whispered that it was Talmai. Lars frowned. As the man came closer, more light from outside fell on his face. He didn't recognize Radashendra from the pict in the file. The fact that the man's eyes, lower jaw and right side of the skull had been replaced by metal parts and bionics, could explain some things though.

"Aaaah. Little Deepa. I see you performed well, little girl." Radashendra began. " _Ya_ , mister Radashendra. This is the man that has come looking for you." Deepa reported. "Not really what I asked, eh, little _walang_." Radashendra said with a half smile on his face, showing some yellow teeth. "Perhaps not, mister, but good enough for the reward, no?" Deepa tried, putting on her most likeable face. "We'll see, we'll see." Radashendra said, waving his hands in a dismissive matter, "Not so fast little _laler._ "

Lars could hear Deepa snort softly, but didn't react. She seemed to have brought him to the right place. When the man stood before Lars, he opened his mouth and gone was the slang from Khurry and The Hole. Instead the man spoke proper low gothic, with a tongue that betrayed the fact that he'd been travelling. Lars could hear all kinds of intonations and accents, from all over the subsector.

"Regulator Akira. We received your message. I'm here for your pick-up." Lars said, pointing a thumb at the door behind him. "Welcome, regulator. I didn't think you would get here that fast. As you can see, things are... heating up, around here." Radashendra gave him the same half smile he had given Deepa. Lars wasn't in the mood for exchanging pleasantries though. "Indeed. I've got a shuttle in a secured landing bay. We just need to get to the Khurry space port and we can be out of here." The man clapped his hands together, keeping them in front of his body, wringing them together, like a carpet salesman that feels like a deal is slipping through his hands. "Yes, but..." Lars could see that the man was starting to sweat. Clearly, Radashendra was nervous. "It's just that... I've still got business here." the informant continued. "Anything to do with that?" Lars indicated the bionics with a little nod of his head. "No. Not exactly regulator. That's something from a bit longer ago." Radashendra replied, "No. The last file I sent the judge contained some information that has since become obsolete. Or rather, that has led to some other clues. It would be quite the shame were we not... to retrieve that information." Lars looked a the man a little incredulous. "This city is on fire and you want to finish a case?" Radashendra's face darkened as he answered imperatively. "The Imperium is at war and you want to leave it without vital information?"

Of course Lars couldn't argue with that, but he still couldn't completely shake the feeling that something else was going on. This man had asked for an exit from the judge, and here he was now, with the finish in sight, making detours. But Radashendra made a compelling argument. Everything that could help the forces of the Imperium to win the constant war they were in, would be of use. Although Lars hadn't seen any war actions from up close, he had seen the after action reports of Belloran's service. They might not be able to assist on the front lines, but the work of the judge had been a boon to Imperial efforts nonetheless. Without their interventions the logistics would be hampered, information that could turn the tide of battle would have been withheld and naval operations might have been less succesful. Lars remembered his old friend Svensson, how he too would insist that everything one did at the docks, was to strenghten the Imperium and that going the extra mile, was just what the Imperium needed to tip the battle in her favour.

Lars sighed resigned. "Ok. So, what's that business you're talking about?" Seeing how he had won the argument, Talmai's face cleared up. "I just need to have a word with some men, here in Khurry. Nothing that should take too long." Lars on the other hand, still felt annoyed for jumping through another hoop. "Then let's get on with it, shall we. Vishna. Lead the way."

"What about my money, mister Radashendra. sir?" The two men looked at Deepa, who was looking at them from beneath two thick eyebrows, cracked in a disgruntled frown. Lars had almost forgotten about Deepa, but true to his word, he counted out forthy thrones. In the meanwhile, Radashendra went back up and came down with two bleached blue, kashweave bags. From one of them, he retrieved a simple purse and counted out a few local coins, handing them over to Deepa with a smile. The girl thanked them both and with a wave from her hand, she headed out.

Lars looked how she adroitly slipped out of the door and quickly disappeared. She truly was a kid of the street and Lars was sure that she'd find her way, even if this city was on fire. He looked back at Radashendra who was rummaging through his sack. "We should do the same, Talmai. To the car."


	30. Chapter 30: Going out of town

Once inside the car, Talmai Radashendra told them where to go. Vishna sat in the back, keeping her eyes open for trouble, as Lars navigated the streets and alleyways of downtown Khurry. Radashendra mostly remained silent, only occasionaly speaking up to give directions. They were heading out of the Barren to a better part of town, although better was only relative. The Chennai 4x4 still got tested regularly by holes in the black cobbled roads or the occasional patch of mud, but the car steered true and when the road got better, Lars stepped on the gas. After half an hour or so, they arrived at a stately wooden gate. A guard in some sort of house uniform opened it and waved them through. Inside, Lars saw for the first time during his time on the planet a thing of beauty. Next to the carpark, a small garden had been made with an intricate pattern of flowers and little hedges, all around a small white statue of Saint Drusus.

"So what business do you have here, Talmai," Lars asked, "This doesn't look like your ordinary scum lord or underworld contact, does it?" "Indeed, it does not," Radashendre replied confidently, "But my network is larger than common crooks and informers, my friend."

The same servant opened a door to the main building. Once inside, Lars could see that the owner of the house had money to spare, but didn't like to attract attention. From the outside, the house had been as dour as the rest of the street, but inside it was a different story. The floor was made out of imported marble, the rooms were spacious and the walls were decorated with beautiful tapistry, depicting famous tableaus of Imperial saints. The air was cool and although outside you couldn't escape the scent of the fires, in here some sort of flowery perfume was dispersed. With his trained eye, Lars could also spot several discretely placed pictcorders.

Radashendra seemed to know his way around the house, as he navigated the stairs and hallway. Lars got the distinct impression that the owner had bought the adjacent buildings as well and had torn down several walls to create one great mansion. Vishna came walking beside him. Lars could see that the woman wasn't at ease. If he was honest with himself, he couldn't say that he had complete trust in this endeavor himself.

After one last stairwell, Talmai turned around and pointed at a few lush chairs with a small knee-high table between them. "You can wait here, until I've finished my business." Lars only hesitated for a second, but he caught himself and sat down in one of the chairs, indicating Vishna to do the same.

 _'What the frak is he thinking, Akira. That you're just some runner that he can order around?'_

Instead of showing his frustration, Lars only conveyed his impatience. "Try to get this over with quickly, will you. I've got to say that my confidence in the local enforcers has taken a blow. I don't want us to get caught up again in those riots. No offence, trooper." he said with an apologetic look at Vishna. "None taken sir," she said with a grim smile on her face. "I think you got the gist of it." Radashendra didn't go to the trouble of hiding his emotions. He clearly wasn't too happy with his companions' attitude. "Well... I'll try to finish this efficiently and properly. Shouldn't take more than an hour."

The man opened one of the dubble doors before him and disappeared in the room. Lars could hear it being locked behind him. It only raised more suspicion with Lars. Apparently Vishna felt the same way. She offered him another one of her _Beedi_ -sticks, she spoke out. " _Sampe_ me hard. What the _wong_ is going on, regulator? Can't say I've ever run into such a sleek _bakur_." Lars didn't exactly knew the words, but the meaning of the merc was pretty clear. "I don't think there is any reason to use such language, Vishna. The man is doing his duty. Nothing more, nothing less."

Lars didn't think about criticizing the man in this house. The hidden pictcorders might be accompanied by hidden voxcapters. Obviously Radashendra tought himself a man of great importance. It seemed better to leave him under the impression that Lars tought so too.

The meeting took its time. After an hour or so, Lars stood up and started pacing back and forth before the door. Vishna was tinkering with the tuned weapon and apart from the soft metallic noises she made, nothing could be heard in the hallway. Until the door burst open and the sound of yelling broke into the empty hallway.

"You think you can get away with this? You think you don't need me?" Radashendra cried out, obviously furious. "That's exactly what I think Talmai." another man said, his voice carrying the inflection typical for The Hole, "And I'm not just thinking it. I'm pretty sure." Radashendra turned around and almost shook his fist at the man inside. "Well you can... You frakking _bokong. Janco sampe_!"

Talmai stormed out into the hall and slammed the door shut behind him, but not fast enough to prevent Lars from seeing a black bearded man in uniform standing by a table. "We're leaving. Right now!" he announced bluntly. Lars didn't bother to reply and beckoned Vishna to follow. The mercenary quickly put away the little combitool she'd been using and ran after the two men. Lars tried to stay close to the enraged Radashendra, but the low gothic dialect of Khurry became once more incomprehensible as the man continued to swear under his breath. Without a chance of learning more, Lars didn't engage in a conversation as they navigated the house. Only when they were back into the car, Lars turned to Radashendra.

"So, now what? Something tells me, we're not quite finished here, are we?" he asked with a blank face, although the sarcasm was clear for anyone to hear. "So where to now, Talmai? Can we head for the spaceport?" Radashendra crossed his arms in front of his chest "Frak no...Just head east. We need to get out of town." Lars leaned in close to the man beside him. "Hold on. This is still about the intel?" Now, Radashendra faced him, anger clearly visible on his face. "Of course! What else would it be for?" Lars remained stoic. "If he's a law abiding citizen, which I would think from the looks of him, why doesn't he hand it over just like that?" Radashendra was taken aback. For a second. Then he cursed. "What? Are you new or something? Never worked with CI's? Never had to manhandle a witness. where did they dig you up, _edan_?"

Lars held his tongue. Of course he had ran into situations where the level of cooperation was less than he had expected. But with a regulator at his back, why didn't Radashendra just demanded the evidence to be handed over? But apart from this strange sideways trip, Lars couldn't put his finger on whatever it was that was bothering him about Radashendra. Apart from the attitude. But he supposed that a former Navy NCO had to adopt a certain arrogance if he wanted to keep his roughneck crew under control.

"East it is." the regulator said as he started the car.

* * *

 _+++5.554.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Mahanda's valley - Road N4112 +++_

Lars had manoeuvred the Chennai groundcar out of the little garden and took to the road. When they had crossed the city limits an hour later, Lars had gotten his first good look of what lay beyond the city walls. The sunlight of the second sun had been replaced by a faint yellow light from The Hole's only moon. The landscape had been as disappointing as the city itself though. As far as he could see, his eyes met with a yellow-brown patch of mud with at irregular intervals large black rocks sticking out from the drab. Close to the city, the moor was split up by raised, cobbled roads, but the further they had gotten away from the city, the less intricate the network became, until they had come to one last Y-split. Radashendra had said to take the road to the right and to step on it. The traffic they had encountered before had been sparse, but now, the road ahead lay completely open.

"We're being followed." Lars stated his observation in a flat tone. He had noticed the car for the first time in the streets of Khurry before because of its long vox antenna. It had seemed to follow them for some time, but Lars had lost track of it in the traffic mess just outside the eastern gate. Now that the roads had completely cleared, Lars had spotted it again. It was a grey towncar with tinted windows. If Lars wouldn't know better, he would have taken it for an undercover vehicle of the local enforcers. But the antenna had been rammed through the side window and with the unhealthy looking trail of smoke that came from the exhaust, Lars wouldn't believe the locally employed engineseers would let it leave their shrine in a state like that. It seemed to be more of a gang car than anything else.

" _Becek_! Since when are they there?" Lars looked in the rear mirror and saw that Vishna checked the las magazine and slammed it into the weapon with force. Clearly, the arbite wasn't the only one that didn't like this course of events. Radashendra spoke up. Lars could see that he was sweating, even though it wasn't too hot in the car. "Pull over, so they can pass by. If it's nothing, they'll drive on. In the other case, keep your guns at the ready." Lars scraped his throat. "Anything you wish to tell us, Talmai?" Immediately the man was at his throat. " _Janco sampe_ , regulator! Just do as you're told."

Lars raised an eyebrow, but went with it, although his patience was wearing thin. He gently steered the 4x4 to the side of the road, which left just enough place for another vehicle to pass them, and brought it to a stop. Next, he retrieved his Pugnatis autopistol, selecting full auto mode. If it came down to a fight, Lars wasn't under any illusion that the Chennai groundcar would provide much in the way of suitable cover. They would need to keep the other party's heads down, not the other way around. He told as much to Vishna, who gave him a curt nod and flipped over some switches from her improvised weapon as well. Radashendra dug in his pockets and retrieved an old handcannon. The thing was trembling in his hands and Lars pushed down the man's arms. "Let's keep it cool until we know what's what, shall we?" The man seemed to relax a bit and breathed out slowly. Lars looked in the side mirror and noticed that the car had doused its headlights. This only increased his concern as the soft moonlight was enough to see the road, but it would be far more demanding for the driver to avoid the deepest pits and holes in the road.

 _'Perhaps they like it to have their spines banged out of their backs, Akira.'_

As the car approached them, it also lowered its speed. At about twenty meters, it only moved forward at a crawl. The tinted windows didn't reveal the driver or any passengers that might be aboard, until three doors swung open. The yellowish uniforms they were all wearing, immediately gave away that they were Khurry enforcers. Lars could see how Vishna relaxed in the back. "Don't put your guard down, Vishna. There is something..." Just then, Lars focused on the face of the driver. The man had sergeant chevrons on his arm and the way he walked around the car... "It's sergeant Akhil. What the frak is he doing here? Are you reassured Talmai?" But Radashendra didn't seem at ease at all. "Why have they unholstered their weapons?" Lars frowned and the sergeant and the other two trooperd closed the distance to the 4x4. As enforcers, Lars thought it only natural that they were armed. But then again, the fact that they were driving in a civvie's car, with doused lights... The arbite holstered his autopistol and stepped out of the car, slamming the porter shut.

"Sergeant Akhil! What brings you here?" he called out. The brown skinned man didn't reply and waved with a small scroll. The yellow wax seal of the enforcers was attached to it. Lars walked over to the trio and stuck out his hand, but he kept a close eye on Akhil's face, not trusting the sergeant entirely. He was lucky enough to do so, because this ensured he saw a calculated look when the man dropped the scroll just as Lars tried to take it from the man's hand. A well executed feint, but Lars could see how the sergeant's other hand tensed and started to bring up his handgun.

Immediately Lars threw himself against the sergeant, knocking the man over, while he yelled to open fire. The two enforcers hesitated only a second. More than enough for Vishna to open fire. The distinctive snapping noise of the lasgun rang across the swamp, but instead of the common single shot, Lars heard multiple rounds being fired off. As he hit the ground, Lars could see from the corner of his eye how the flak armour of one of the enforcers completely failed him. The barrage tore through his body. Then he had to divert his attention to the sergeant beneath him. The man tried to grab Lars' throat, frantically trying to get a grip. He had dropped his pistol when Lars had barreled into him, but clearly the man wasn't going to give up. Lars tried to punch him out, but Akhil blocked of his jabs with his left arm. Next, Lars felt how the sergeant successfully grabbed his throat, bringing his left arm up to reinforce his grip. Without hesitation Lars reacted, smashing his left elbow against Akhil's right arm thus breaking his grip. He followed up with a vicious headbut, hearing the other man's nose breaking beneath the violent attack. Not intending to lose the initative, Lars repeated the attack twice, feeling the blood of the other man spreading over his face. The man seemed to be staying down although he continued groaning and blowing little red bubbles on his lips.

 _'No time to waste, Akira!'_

Lars looked up, scanning his surroundings for the last trooper, but soon enough he saw the man lying in a pool of his own blood. It was already mingling with the brownish water of the moor beside the road as his body was punctured with a dozen las wounds. Lars picked himself up and wiped his face clean. He walked back to the car to check on his companions. It was only now, it seemed, that Radashendra stepped out of the car, his handcannon unused in his right hand, while Visha pulled her improvised weapon out of the smashed rear window of the Chennai.

"Everybody alright?" Lars checked. "Sir, yes sir!" Vishna yelled back. Radashendra didn't answer but stumbled towards the bodies of the enforcers. For a moment Lars worried he had been hit, but on closer inspection, he couldn't see any wounds. The look of disbelief in the man's eyes seemed to be a better indication of why he was flailing. Lars shrugged and turned to Vishna. "So, I already asked earlier, but you never got the chance to answer. What the frak is that thing of yours?" Somehow, the female mercenary started blushing. "It's just... It's just something I've been tinkering on for the last few years. I didn't liked the stopping power of the regular Mark III. Thought it needed some improvements." Lars smiled. The adrenaline was starting to leave his system, but the euphoria of surviving a fire fight at such a close distance hadn't left him yet. "Well... I'll say it has improved. But you said you had been tinkering on that thing? What are you? A coggie in disguise?" A sad smile appeared on Vishna's face. "Not quite, regulator, not quite. I was once destined to go to..."

*KA-BOOM* As the shot echoed across the swamps, Lars turned around. When he focused on the scene before him, he could see Radashendra standing next to the body of sergeant Akhil, his handcannon smoking from the shot he had fired. He was looking down on the man and seemed to be whispering something. Lars followed his look to the sergeant's body and noticed that the man's head was missing. The massive slug had completely smashed it to pieces. Lars looked back at Vishna who's face mirrored his own surprise and a bit of disgust.

"He was going for his gun, regulator." Radashendra stated rather matter-of-factly "Had to finish him."


	31. Chapter 31: Evidence

_+++5.554.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Mahanda's valley - Adeptus Mechanicus Refinery HYX-621+++_

When they had continued their way, the mood in the car had been below zero. Although they hadn't exchanged a word, Lars and Vishna strongly doubted the battered sergeant had done anything to earn his death by the hands of Talmai. The orders Akhil had been waving around, had fallen into the brown mud and although the yellow seal appeared to be real enough, the words on the scroll had been rendered incomprehensible. They had retreated to the car and Lars had put the 4x4 back in gear, driving away from the scene.

Lars kept an eye on Radashendra as they drove on. He saw that Vishna was doing the same, keeping her lasgun at the ready, perhaps not very subtly aimed at Talmai's back. Lars had been surprised that she had gunned down her former colleagues without hesitation, but now it seemed the gravity of what she had done began to dawn on her. He wished he could offer her some words of consolance, but with Talmai next to him, he kept his mouth shut.

They drove on in silence. After another half an hour, Lars could vaguely see some sort of spire rising from the moors. It was a thin needle, probably about two hundred meters high, with at its base a large facility with dozens of metal pipes entering the building.

"Is that our destination?" he asked, breaking the silence. "Yes, regulator," Radashendra replied, "It's an abandoned refinery. The mud around here used to be rich with certain chemicals. The Mechanicus built these facilities to filter those out. About two hundred years ago, they started getting so-called suboptimal results. The harvest became less and less rich and finally they pulled the plug from the operation. It meant a big set back for The Hole." Lars could imagine the consequences for the local populace. "And why are we here?" Radashendra hesitated. "Well..."

Lars looked sideways and saw that Radashendra had a look like he had to shit a brick. Finally, he spoke up. "Well... I've got a backup file. I stashed it here. It isn't complete though, but it's better than nothing. That's what was going on back in the mansion. That _maling_ had the possibility to add some more names to the list, but he refused. My offer wasn't good enough." Lars looked at the man from the corner of his eyes. "...I guess there's nothing like serving The Swordsman, is there?"

Lars threw out his little fish and kept looking sneakily at Radashendra. The man seemed baffled for a moment, his iron jaw hanging low, trying to digest the question Lars had asked him. He hesitated for only a few seconds, but Lars had seen enough. The man tried to compensate for his fault immediately, but he bodged it by his attitude. He talked too fast and his words got a certain quality, as if he had studied them like a lesson a long time ago. "Yeah, The Swordsman. Those were the days, man. Nothing on my mind but keeping my crew intact. Just going through the motions, patrol after patrol. Yeah. Good times, regulator, good times." Now Lars could feel that he was under scrutiny. He kept his eyes on the road and didn't reply. After a few moments, Lars could feel that Talmai diverted his gaze.

 _'Something stinks, Akira.'_

Lars reviewed the evidence for his hypothesis. Although his house had been burned down, the man next to him didn't strike Lars as a man desperate to leave the planet. The handling of his gun had been far below Navy standards and for someone who had assisted in multiple boarding actions, it seemed he was awfully nervous about a simple shoot out. His story about the extra intel - the implication of an enforcer officer, the backup file out in the wilderness - seemed to be way too colluded. The fact that he killed sergeant Akhil, before Lars could have a word with the man, or see his orders, could be seen as a desperate attempt to cover things up. And finally, the man became very nervous when Lars made reference to his past. Nothing was damning the man directly, but the circumstancial evidence... It all pointed to Radashendra not being the man he was supposed to be picking up.

Seeing how Lars remained silent, Radashendra started telling a story from his days aboard _The Swordsman_. Although the man was a gifted storyteller and the details he added made it all that more convincing, Lars couldn't shake the feeling that it was all some ploy, some sort of cover. In the meanwhile they drove on towards the refinery. Lars wished he could discuss his feelings with Vishna, but even if he could have talked freely, Vishna seemed completely lost in her own thoughts.

Finally they arrived at the plant. From the outside, Lars could tell that here were at least four main industrial halls, all connected to the outside with the large metal pipework. Lars found a deserted parking lot. There was easily room enough for hundreds of groundcars, but apart from two rusting wrecks, it was completely empty. Radashendra pointed at one of the main accessways to the plant and told Lars to park the car there. They stepped out of the car and were met with absolute silence. Talmai moved towards the gate in the moonlight, retrieving a stablight from one of his pockets. Lars could hear a soft click and saw that Vishna had attached a stablight to her lasgun as well. Uneasy, Lars followed Radashendra into the facility.

"So where is this backup, Talmai? This place is huge." he asked, trying to gather some more information. Radashendra didn't look up to answer him. "Don't worry. I know where to look. We just need to get to the control room, and we should get the power on. I'll need to access the cogitators there to retrieve the package." Lars frowned and couldn't help but let some suspicion ring through his voice. "Didn't know you meddled with machine spirits, Talmai. Something you picked up during your tours of duty?" The man laughed softly. "No, regulator. It's a skill I picked up later. If you want to gather intel, you need to be able to access it, no? I'm sure you yourself know a bit of the ways of the cog." That was something Lars couldn't deny. "True. I've picked up on a thing or two." "Great." Radashendra replied. "That means we can gain some time. The emergency generator was left here by the Mechanicus. You should be able to find it in block C, section 41. Just make sure there's enough promethium in the tank. After that, a rite of reparation should do it. Think you can handle that, regulator?" Lars cursed internally. It seemed like the man had found the perfect excuse to be left alone. "Sure, Talmai. Sure. We'll head there, while you get to the control room. Where is it located? So we can meet up with you?" Talmai stopped walking, as if thinking something over. "Yes. Ehrm. The control room where I've hidden the file, is further up. It's about halfway up the needle. Can't miss it. The stairwell goes right through the room." Lars nodded. "Ok, see you there." "Yes, see you regulator." The man waved as he took off, deeper into the facility. To access block C, Vishna and Lars had to turn right.

They were only walking for a minute when Vishna put a hand on Lars' shoulder. "Regulator. Something is seriously off here. If you haven't seen it, I think I'm going _edan_." Lars stopped in his tracks. "No, Vishna, you're not going crazy. Talmai is playing us. I'm just not certain why." From the looks of it, the woman seemed to have a plan. "Well. Look here. I meant to tell you earlier, but I'm not as bad with machine spirits myself actually. I was meant to go to Mars, but apparently my skills weren't good enough." Lars laughed softly. "Sure Vishna, you're not fooling anyone with that. The way you improved that gun? It's pretty hardcore." The mercenary smiled back. "Ok, ok. Perhaps it was more their rigid thinking that got me out. Anyway. I can start up that generator without breaking a sweat. If I do that, you've got your hands free." Her suggestion was unspoken, but clear enough.

Lars answered with a mean smile and gave her a mock salute, turned on his heels and walked back the way he came from, benefitting from the residual light of Vishna's stablight. Looking around the corner, he could see the dancing light of Radashendra in the distance. Luckily the hallways had been cleared so Lars was pretty sure that he wouldn't stumble over anything as he followed his quarry. Lars sped up to close a bit of the distance, but didn't approach too much so the man wouldn't notice him.

 _'Now just hope you don't run into any low hanging pipes, Akira.'_

The arbite managed to follow Radashendra without being noticed. Surprisingly, or perhaps not that surprisingly, the man hadn't gone to the central spire at all. Instead, he had taken a left from the main corridor going to the central spire after five minutes of walking. Lars had still been able to follow the man easily enough, though. Radashendra had seemed to be completely oblivious of the presence of the arbite.

Suddenly the stablight turned to the right. Lars ducked and crouched against the wall. From beyond he could hear some ticking and a soft buzzing sound, recognizable as a multikey being put to work. The sound of a rusted sliding door being opened was confirmation enough. The light disappeared from the hallway and Lars slowly pressed on, to see what Radashendra was up to. Halfway there, the light of the stablight was drowned out by a more powerful lightsource and Lars could hear how someone was moving tables and chairs in the room.

Coming to the side of the door, Lars took a peek. The room beyond was about seventy feet deep and half as wide, the walls filled with cogitator stations, all unpowered and showing distinct signs of neglect. Some of the cases were covered in rust and Lars could swear he saw a rodent coming out from one of the consoles and fleeing for the light in the room. The middle of the room was filled with old standard issue plasteel tables and chairs, that were being shoved aside by Radashendra. Inside the room, next to the door, Lars could see a metal flightcase with the lid up. Inside he saw some tools and another two stablights, but also a sawed-off shotgun and a little wooden case with a small silver padlock. Lars guessed that the glowpack that was standing on one of the tables, and that produced the light had come from this case as well. Lars took another look at Radashendra. The man was clearing a path towards one of the cogitatorstations at the back, which had, conveniently, some sort of dirty, canvas pulled over it.

Lars considered his position. As soon as the other man would have reached his destination, standing in the doorway would be a bad place to be. The room itself offered no good hiding places and Lars considered that his reserve of luck was empty already seeing how he had been able to follow the man unnoticed in the dark corridors of the refinery. He took a little risk and quickly grabbed one of the stablights from the case. Pressing the plasrub activation button, he looked up and down the corridor. Only thirty meters beyond, he noticed another door. Lacking a multikey himself, Lars counted on his strength. Although he still felt the effects of the disease he contracted on Phlegethon, he managed to slide the door open, hoping that the noise in the other room would cover the creaking of the rusty door. Not hanging around to see if Radashendra picked up on the noise, Lars closed the door behind him and did a quick check with his stablight. In the middle of the room stood three sort of half built servitors, but more importantly, as he had hoped, he could see some ventilation rosters against the ceiling. Two minutes later, Lars had a limited view of the control room.

Radashendra was pacing around, having cleared the path to the cogitator at the back. The machine had been uncovered, but all its dials and lights were unpowered. It seemed like the man was talking to himself, but Lars couldn't quite make out what he was mumbling. It must have been some sort of a rant because when suddenly the power came back online, he stopped muttering and concentrated his efforts on the machine spirit of the cogitatorstation. It only took a few minutes for the machine to start running, perhaps helped by the holy ointments Radashendra had applied to the spoolsystem of the station. Immediately, the man plugged in a dataslate. He seemed agitated and nervous as he entered his commands by ramming on the old bronze buttons of the station.

 _'Guilty as a heretic in a penitent engine, Akira.'_

Apparently, Radashendra had been well prepared as only a minute later, he unplugged the dataslate and turned off the glowpack. He seemed to be heading for the hallway without delay. Lars hurried back towards the hallway himself only to see that the man was walking back in a brisk pace towards the main corridor. Cautiously, he followed him. He cursed in silence about the lack of vox so he might have warned Vishna about the course of events, but the mercenary had shown she possessed a healthy dose of common sense. But as Radashendra and Lars walked back to the main entrance, neither one of them caught sight of the woman.

 _'Smart kid. Staying out of trouble. Nothing like you though Akira.'_

The darkness of the refinery was broken by the gentle moonlight as the entrance came in sight. At that point, Radashendra broke into a hussle. Lars cursed below his breath but didn't risk to follow Radashendra's example. The footsteps of the running men echoed through the corridor and would the arbite do the same, he would surely be noticed. However, when the man left the building, Lars couldn't restrain himself and broke into a run. Coming at the large plasteel gate, he took a peek through the open door.

Radashendra was already inside the Chennai, his head beside the wheel, trying to hotwire the car as far as Lars could tell. Lars had had enough and pulled his Pugnatis autopistol. "Enough of this Talmai! Put your hands on the wheel! You're under immediate arrest, conditio Carcerex!"Talmai Radashendra sat upright and raised his left hand, pushing the cardoor open. "What is the meaning of this regulator Akira?" he started protesting, "Is this how you treat your..." Lars interrupted him promptly. "Spare me your excuses! Hands on your head! Now!"

The man hesitated. Lars could see a calculated look on his face. Then Lars' eye fell on the empty holster at the man's side. Finally, the man started to bring his right hand to the fore. Immediately, Lars aimed his autopistol at the man's chest. "Don't!" he yelled. But Talmai wouldn't stop and started to raise the heavy handcannon. With a flick of his arm, Lars changed aim and fired off a single shot. He rolled to the right, trying to avoid any return fire. He shouldn't have bothered. His aim had been true. The bullet went in just above the knee. As Lars looked up, Talmai collapsed. The heavy handcannon let out a single booming shot. The heavy recoil made Talmai lose his grip. The weapon bounced of the black cobbled stones. The imposter grasped at his leg. Screaming.

Lars stood up and walked over to the man, kicking the handcannon away. He looked down on the moaning man. "Time for the truth, stupid _skitvihund_. You've played your game long enough." Talmai looked up, his face twisted, trying to bite through the pain. The anger on his face was clearly visible, but with both hands clasped around his right knee, he also saw the man's weakness. The fact that the man spat on his boots, was but an empty gesture of defiance.

"Fine. I've been looking forward to this." Lars said as he reached down to the man.


	32. Chapter 32: Dirty hands

Lars grabbed the man by the collar of his fatigues, pulling him back towards the facility. He didn't mind the whining and grunting of the man. In his eyes, the man was guilty enough. He just needed to get more intel from him: where was the real Talmai Radashendra? What about the intel on the dataslate? What backroom politics were going down back in Khurry? Why did the enforcers went after them? All questions that needed answering. Lars hoped that the imposter could deliver. He feared that he didn't have a lot else to go on. As he entered the facilty, he looked over his shoulder into the night. He was expecting trouble. Akhil's patrol had possessed a voxcaster. Surely, somebody had to come check what had happened to the patrol. But the road to the city remained empty under the soft light of the moon.

Inside the facility, Lars found a small room wth a few chairs, probably some sort of check-in by the looks of the abandoned clipboards laying around. Unclasping his manacles, he hauled the imposter on one of the chairs, extracting a scream of agony as the man's knee collided forcefully with the steel chair leg. Next, the man was chained with his hands around his back, stuck to the back of the chair.

"I'm sorry. Did that hurt, Talmai?" Lars said sarcasticly. He really had no patience with the traitor. "You _walong_!" the supposed Radashendra cursed back. Lars took another chair and sat down. "Let's start with something simple, shall we? What's your name?"

Even though the man's eyes were bionics, Lars could see from his body language that he was already cracking. He hadn't been trained as a chastener, but what he had learned from Horrigan's training was that every man had his weakness. For some men it was their pride or honour, other were emotionally attached to others, family or friends, but for yet another sort, pain was the key. Horrigan had told him that this last group was the easiest to play. It was quite easy to cause pain. And you could do so without damaging the victim. And for the man before him, Lars could see that pain was the key.

The man remained silent, so Lars turned on the damaged knee again. Drawing his autopistol, he put the nozzle in the wound. The man squirmed and Lars held his hand. "Name." Lars could see how the other man's bionics focused on his knee. He started breathing faster and shallower, preparing himself for the agony. "Fine." the arbite said and applied pressure to the gun. The fake Radashendra cried out, screaming at the top of his lungs. Lars retrieved the autopistol, the nozzle now blood red. Lars cleaned it off on the prisoner's vest. "Name."

Lars had to give credit to the man. He had thought him broken, but in the end it took the better part of an hour before he cracked. His knee was in shambles and the man wouldn't want the company of a woman anytime soon. Somewhere in the middle of the interrogation, Vishna had entered. Lars had apologized, but when she heard the man meant to abandon them here, her look went stony and she had left them.

Lars had most of the answers now. The man before him went by the name of Vijay Shaneshabad. He had replaced Radashendra after the man had been found out. The cartel that put Shaneshabad there had hoped to feed the Arbites false information. Or good quality intel on their rivals's operations. They had found out about Radashendra's call for help, but had decided to play along. Eventually, Shaneshabad would ask to be put back in play, so to the cartel it wasn't a lost cause. The real Radashendra was laying in an unnamed grave at best, but Vijay thought that his body was probably decomposing in the moors outside Khurry. What remained was the problem with the enforcers, but Lars had taken a break from torturing the wounded man. He'd checked on his heartrhytm regularly and it had been steadily on the rise. At some point Lars would be able to interrogate him by just threatening to cause pain, but they hadn't reached that point yet. Until then, Lars had to make sure the guy didn't die on his chair.

He left the room, giving Shaneshabad some time to rest, and went looking for Vishna. He found her outside of the facility, sitting on the hood of the Chennai, staring in the distance. "Sorry you had to see that," Lars said apologetically, "It isn't pretty, but it's part of the job." She didn't look at him. "Don't worry about it regulator. That _babi_ got what he deserved." Lars climbed onto the 4x4's hood next to her. "I'm not done with him just yet. That mess with sergeant Akhil? I've still got no idea what went down. It doesn't really fit his story. Unless the local enforcers were on to him and wanted to take him down." Vishna slowly shook her head. "That doesn't really add up. Why would they move only when you arrived on the scene?" Lars shrugged. "Perhaps I was more of an opportunity than a nuisance. If they could make it look like I terminated him..." The mercenary looked sideways at the arbite. "Then what? You were here to pick him up, not kill him." Lars hummed acceptingly. "Then maybe." "Maybe what?" Vishna asked. "Perhaps it's time we take a look at this."

Lars retrieved the dataslate from his backpack. The grey metal casing felt cool in his hands and when he awoke the machine spirit of the little device, the pictscreen lit up with a greenish glow. There were over ten files that the machine spirit showed. At first sight these seemed to be old production numbers of the refinery. Lars scowled. "Yeah, this ain't going to tell us much. He must have hidden a code in these files." Vishna reached for the dataslate. "Can I take a look?"

Disappointed, Lars handed the slate over to Vishna, already contemplating how he would get the correct intel as fast as possible from Shaneshabad. He couldn't continue relying on luck as it came to the enforcers. They had been after them for a reason, and even if they only wanted Shaneshabad, they hadn't shown any qualms about a little collateral. Akhil had been aiming for him in the first place, not for Shaneshabad.

 _'Maybe they were there to protect the man, Akira. If he's not Radashendra, but some tool of a cartel? It wouldn't be the first bent enforcer.'_

Caught in his thoughts, Lars didn't notice that Vishna had started reciting some sort of tech ritual. At the same time, the woman had taken the metal cover of the slate and was doing something to the lifelines of the machine spirit, disconnecting several cables and reconnecting them to another part of the slate. So Lars was brutally disturbed when she sheered loudly.

"Deus Mechanicus! I knew it!" She yelled enthusiastically. "What? What have you found?" Lars asked, still recovering from his surprise. "It wasn't a code, regulator. It was just hidden under several layers of protocol. With the rite of defragmentation, I was able to bypass the cover." Lars took back the slate. "Let me see!"

Lars opened one of the files. It revealed something completely different than production statistics. Instead, there were dozens of lines with certain amounts of thrones. The smallest amount enough to buy a decent ground car. The largest amount easily enough to buy a yearlong stay on one of the precious few pleasure worlds of the Ossibus subsector. Next to each amount was the name of a person, most of them with a title indicating a position within the enforcers. Lars took a seat on the hood, checking the list more extensively. There were dozens of names, among all the ranks of the enforcers. Vishna looked over his shoulder and suddenly cursed loudly in Lars ear. Then she pointed at one of the names.

"Sergeant Akhil... So he had a personal stake in all this as well." she said. "Yeah. Apparently. That's still something strange. He couldn't have given himself this mission. He's way too far down on the list. I would even think that he's too low a _räka_ to be even aware of the problems he was in. How would he have known about the list." Vishna eagerly started speculating. "So someone told him! He was just following orders." Lars nodded. "That was my first guess as well, but the officer who gave me his detail, colonel Bramha'ustan, isn't on this list." Vishna laughed, a bit of a barking sound. The mercenary wasn't the most sophisticated women he had ever met. "Bramha'ustan? You mean that stuttering bureaucrat at Khurry HQ? Hahaha. What a joke. You had to deal with him?" Vishna's laughter was infectious and Lars had to smile with her accurate description of the colonel. "Yeah, why? Is there something I should know?" Vishna kept laughing. "I wonder how you managed to survive. That man is the slowest _dodo_ of The Hole." "I noticed," Lars declared agreeable, "But any indication he's into this?" Vishna giggled one last time before answering. "No, regulator. Not at all. He's too slow to be on this list. No one would pay off that guy. He's less than useless." Lars started scanning the list again. "So, who's his second in command?" "Major Ilena Kirilenko, an off-worlder. Vostroyan."

They checked the list, but couldn't find her. Vishna wanted to attribute the presence of Akhil as a coincedence, but Lars told her that he was paid not to believe in coincidence. However, how Akhil had been put on their trail, he couldn't explain either. There were other questions as well. The list looked like someone had paid off these enforcers. But who was paying? And how did Radashendra got hold of the list. Finally, it was something to get killed over, so Lars needed to know what Shaneshabad had done with it. Who knew that the list existed and who had he threatened with it?

Lars jumped of the hood and sobered up. "Back to work, then."

* * *

 _+++5.556.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Downtown Khurry - Royal Kali Inn+++_

Lars looked out of the window on the third floor of the Royal Kali Inn, although there was nothing royal about it. The rooms were sparsely furnished and the pieces that were available were all of questionable quality. Greyish mould could be seen on the ceiling and the windows of the room didn't shut properly. But Lars knew that with a small bribe, one could stay here anonymously, no questions asked. Something he valued far more than clean sheets or a proper shower, especially when you knew that a significant part of the local enforcers was probably looking for you.

The street below was muddy and the situation wasn't improving with the heavy rain that fell down from a dark sky, which meant that most people didn't took to the streets. A plus if you wanted to make sure than no one was keeping an eye on you. Neither Lars, nor Vishna had seen anything suspicious since they had checked in though. They had taken turns to get some rest, both feeling quite exhausted from the trip to the abandoned refinery. Vishna had directed them to the northern part of town where the fighting between the gangs and the HWMV-units was still going on undiminished. They had left the Chennai there, with Vishna guaranteeing that the vehicle would be destroyed or stolen within the hour. The trip to the Royal Kali Inn afterwards had been short, but they still felt awfully exposed.

Lars was disturbed in his observation by a knocking sound coming from the bathroom. Vishna was still laying in bed, snoring. Annoyed, Lars crossed the ten foot to the door and opened it with a sudden motion. In the small, beige tub Shaneshabad was lying down face up, his hands and feet cuffed, a blood soaked bandage around his knee and his face blue and bruised.

"We talked about this before. You try anything funny, you bite it." Lars said sternly. The man in the tub wriggled and protested, but his words were muffled by an improvised gag. "You can be happy to be still alive, _skitbaga_ , so shut your hole."

Lars punched the man on the ear, causing a lot of pain which made tears spring from the corners of his eyes. The man got the message and kept silent. Lars had learned everything useful the man had to offer. His role was completely clear. As an agent of local branch of the Highfield cartel, he'd replaced Talmai Radashendra, using his position to feed the Arbites all kinds of information that would damage the interests of other cartels or disrupt the capabilities of local and interplanetary law enforcement. But apart from a loyal Highfield soldier, he had also been an opportunistic crook. So when he had found the list of officials on the pay roll of the Kerviel cartel in Radashendra's archive, instead of just passing it on to Belloran's office, he'd kept it for himself, trying to blackmail the officers on the list. Apparently, their visit to the house in downtown Khurry had been nothing more than a final play to extort a few thousand thrones from one of the senior enforcers. The conversation Lars had overheard was nothing but the brutal refusal of the officer to pay. Shaneshabad had ventured that Akhil and his men had been sent after them by said officer. Lars had caused enough pain to be sure that it was just that: a guess.

Lars closed the bathroom door and retook his position at the window. He couldn't explain the presence of sergeant Akhil outside Khurry. Shaneshabad had declared that Akhil, although on the list, hadn't been one of his blackmail victims. The man was only a small fry, so he hadn't been worth the effort. So, he wouldn't have taken an interest in Shaneshabad... No, there had to be another reason for the encounter in the moors. Despite Vishna's characterisation of colonel Bramha'ustan, Lars still considered the senior officer as a possible suspect. Which meant that a safe departure from the Khurry spaceport might not be on the menu. But from his current position, it was pretty hard to actually gain more intel.

When Vishna woke up, he shared his thoughts. The woman had shown herself to be reliable and a quick thinker. She didn't seem to be impressed by the tricky position they were in right now.

"So, we need to get more information. It's as simple as that." she replied rather a bit too cheerful. Lars grunted. "Yes, if only things were so straightforward." "Why?" she asked, "You _gotcho_ 's must have dozens of tricks to get this kind of intel." "Yes," replied Lars annoyed, "My main informant is lying in an unnamed grave, at best. We haven't got any local backup. On the contrary, we can't trust local authorities. I came here for a quick 'grab-and-extract' mission, so I didn't even bring enough man power to batter us through this." Somehow, Lars' bad mood didn't rub off on Vishna. "Then we'll have to do it ourselves, don't we?" she replied, still far too happy to Lars' liking. "What do you mean?" he asked suspiciously. "Let's just gather more intelligence." The mercenary said, apparently not bothered by her supposed naieveté. "I'm quite sure they know our faces. Whoever is out there, going after this list, they'll have kept tabs on us." Vishna shrugged. "Fine. Then we'll need to do so with a disguise or something." Now, Lars' face lid up. "A disguise? Yes. And where better to hide, than in plain side."


	33. Chapter 33: Infiltrating

_+++5.561.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Downtown Khurry - The Barren+++_

"Get down" Lars hissed. Immediately Vishna fell flat on her belly. She remained down and no longer moved. Lars held his breath and sent a brief prayer to the Emperor that they had not been seen. Only thirty feet out, the three men they had been following, were looking for them. They wore ragged heavy duty clothes and all three of them had a small red ribbon around their left arm with a small silver symbol on it. Their faces were hollow and unshaven, but the look in their eyes was fierce. The weapons they carried, two combat shotguns and a hotshot lasgun, were old but well maintained. With well trained eyes they scanned their surroundings, alerted by some rocks that Vishna had accidentally pushed aside crawling. Luckily, the lingering smoke and the scenery of utter destruction gave plenty of cover. After a minute or so, they moved on, cautiously.

Lars peeked over the destroyed wall, behind which he'd taken cover. Slowly, he gestured Vishna to crawl onwards until she reached his position. " _Bolong_ , I've thought we'd had it." she cursed softly. Lars padded her on the shoulder. "We would have offed those frakkers without a problem... But it would have definitely ruined our plan. Let's get on with it."

Lars moved on, carefully picking a path through the ruins of what had once been a lively neighbourhood of North Khurry. The damage to the houses and streets was massive. During their stay at the Royal Kali, the conflict had escalated even further. The HWMD-teams had deployed their massive Orcis-pattern Rhinos - Rhinos equipped with a giant dozerblade - flattening entire blocks in the contested territory. Lars doubted that it had done much to hamper the gangs in their counterstrikes, but it sure did give them the opportunity to sneak through this part of the city unnoticed.

Vishna beckoned him closer. She handed him the magnoculars. It was a civilian model, pretty basic, but it had been the best they had found. Lars looked through the softly lid viewscreen in the direction Vishna pointed. After a moment of searching, he locked the thin yellow crosshairs on their objective: a small patrol of enforcers with the local variant of a TRAX-12 truck, at the back of the main force. Lars' gamble had born fruit. He had guessed that the gangs wouldn't go head to head with the main force, but would concentrate their efforts in a war of attrition. The only tactic that had a reasonable chance of success. Which meant that the gangs would go after soft targets. A patrol in the rear would definitely be a primary target. So they had laid in waiting until they picked up on a group of gangers - Vishna thought these three thugs were part of the Khurry Falcons - so they could use their attack as a distraction. Now it seemed that the last part of their plan would be set in motion.

Lars could see how the man with the lasgun braced his weapon between two piles of rubble, while the two others made a circular movement to flank the four enforcers. "Come on. Time to do our job," Lars whispered, "If we can spare a few of those men, it would be great for my conscience." They had to wait until the gangers opened fire though. It wouldn't be a rescue if the enforcers never noticed they'd been in danger. Unfortunately, the man with the lasgun knew what he was doing. With his first shot, the head of one of the enforcers was pierced cleanly. The shotguns barked their distinctive noise and then all hell broke loose. Another one of the enforcers went down, but Lars didn't think he was mortally wounded. The flak armour he was carrying should have taken the brunt of the shot. Also, he could see that the two gangers had opened fire from too far away, diminishing the potency of their shotguns. Vishna opened fire on the guy with the lasgun, while Lars stormed off to close the distance with the two others.

After the first shock, the two remaining enforcers took cover behind the truck. To avoid being gunned down himself by the two law enforcers, Lars bellowed the litany of penetance, not something a small time ganger would use to rally. Vishna's shots went wide, so the hotshot lasgun cracked again, punching a little hole through the windscreen of the TRAX-12. At that point, the two remaining enforcers jumped into the dance and used their autoguns to lay a barrage on the position of the two Falcons with the shotguns. They had to keep their heads down, which Lars benefited from to close the distance. He jumped over a rockcrete ceiling that had come down, and slid down in a cloud of dust. He could hear the cracking noise of Vishna's gun somewhere behind him and a scream from the lasgun gunner. The barking of the autoguns stopped and one of the thugs with the shotguns, took a peek, only to be rewarded with a new burst of bullets. The other man had seen Lars coming though and levelled the shotgun. Lars brought up his autopistol and both men shot at the same time. Luckily, Lars' aim was better than the ganger's. The buckshot disappeared in the distance, while Lars' bullet clipped the man's shoulder. The other Falcon turned around to face this new threat, but again, Lars was a bit faster, spraying him with slugs from the autopistol. The man was hit twice in the belly and doubled over. The two enforcers saw as much and stormed from their cover behind the TRAX-12, closing the distance with the two wounded gangers as fast as possible. Another fiery red lasbolt flew past them, and Lars knew that Vishna hadn't taken care of her target just yet. Leaving the two wounded Falcons to the enforcers, Lars turned around and started a flanking manoeuvre. Vishna called out that she had to reload, so Lars ducked for cover. Only ten seconds later, Vishna yelled again and Lars stormed off. The action was for naught though as he could see the last Falcon running away as fast as his legs could carry him. When he turned around, he could see the enforcers making short work of the two wounded thugs.

Lars took a deep breath and prepared himself for the next part of their plan. Walking slowly towards the two men standing, Lars holstered his sidearm. As he had hoped, the enforcers were still busy trying to cope with the effects of the adrenaline. Before they could realize that he wasn't wearing the uniform of a fellow enforcer, Lars pointed to the man who had been downed by the shotgun. "We should probably help our comrade." The two enforcers looked back and one of them called out to the man laying on the black cobblestones. The man grunted something and the one who had called out, started moving towards him, unclaspings a medpack from his bandelier.

Lars got the maximum out of the distraction. The moment the enforcers looked back, Lars pushed himself forward, using his right armoured fist to punch the first enforcer against his temple. Luckily for Lars, the man was knocked out cold. Lars used his momentum to charge at the man with the medpack, ramming his knee in his back and bringing him to the floor. He grabbed the helmet and tore it of the surprised man's head, grabbing him by his sweathy black hair and crashing his face into the ground. He repeated the gesture at which time the body went limp. Lars hoped that he was just unconscious. The wounded man, laying only ten metres further, had seen it all, and Lars could see the panic on his face. Lars bent his knee and grabbed the medpack that had fallen right into a filthy pool of water. As he wiped it clean of the dirt, Lars walked over to the last enforcer.

"Calm down, officer," the regulator spoke reassuringly, "I'll see to your wounds. You and your comrades are done fighting." The man swallowed, but seemed to calm down as Lars put a bandage around his wounds after using the desinfectant spray on it. It was a superficious wound. The man wasn't in real danger, but Lars had no intention on terrorizing the man. After all, this could still be a loyal soldier, doing his duty as he saw fit. Vishna and he just couldn't risk stumbling over one of the dirty enforcers. In the meanwhile, Vishna ran to the truck and looked for something to gag and restrain the three enforcers. Lars dragged the two men he had struck down to the truck and left it to Vishna to take care of them. Lars took care of the third man.

"I'm sorry for this officer. I'm not in the habit of crippling local law enforcement, but I'm afraid I don't have much choice." The enforcer seemed recovered from the shocking surprise. "What the frak, _kontol_!" Lars looked the man in the eyes for a second and then focused on the bandage again. "Yes. I'm sorry to inform you that your chain of command has been compromised. We can't take any risks, I'm afraid." The man grunted as Lars tightened the bandage. "What are you talking about, _edan_?" Using a safety pin to fasten the gauze, Lars smiled a bit sarcasticly. "Perhaps we started out wrong. Regulator Lars Akira, Adeptus Arbites. Pleased to meet you."

Lars didn't bother explaining anything else. Instead he let Vishna cuff the wounded trooper and with her help, he put him in the back of the truck. "We need to stash them somewhere safe. If they fall in the wrong hands they could either be killed, or they could rat us out. We can't have that." Vishna nodded, in her usual enthusiasic manner. "Sure. I know just the place."

* * *

 _+++5.561.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Khurry Spaceport - Enforcer HQ+++_

The place had been some sleezy bar and Lars hadn't been confident at all that the enforcers would be taken care off in a proper way. But as they drove off, Vishna had reassured him that the owner, a burly offworlder with a ginger beard and freckles, had kept her out of trouble a few times when she had been in a pinch due to her merc work. As he didn't have a lot of options, Lars had gone with it and they had set off. In the dirty yellow TRAX-12 they had crossed the city rather quickly as most of the traffic had steered clear of the massive lorry, perhaps worried that the driver would accidentally drive over their civilian groundcars. Lars was glad for the progress, as they didn't have loads of time. Even with the codes they had found in one of the memo's in the truck's cabin, they would only be able to mask the disappearance of the vehicle in the Barren for so long. Luckily their target was already in sight: the Khurry enforcer HQ.

After Vishna's suggestion to dig up more information themselves, she had also suggested this plan: capturing an enforcer's vehicle and some new uniforms, possibly with ID-tags, using it to gain access to the enforcer's HQ and start digging for more intel. Lars had commented that someone should probably take the vehicle back out, because if he'd run the security of the enforcers, he would sure as warp, track any missing vehicles. They had agreed that Vishna would get back out and assist from the outside.

Now, they had acquired the necessary equipment for the ruse and although everything had gone according to plan, Lars felt his hands sweating on the simple steel wheel of the truck. The gate of the HQ loomed ahead and Lars decided it was time for Vishna and him to switch places. With his accent they would be stopped immediately. "Good luck Vishna. We've got a lot running on this." he said, frowning. "Don't sweat it Lars. we're doing the work of the Emperor, no? He'll watch over us." the merc answered far too cheery to Lars' taste.

But it all went smoother than Lars had anticipated. When Vishna casually passed the stolen identitags from the driver's seat, the enforcers at the gate hardly took a look. Navigating the motor pool had been no problem at all for Vishna, seeing she had passed a couple of years in this very building. She stopped the truck at the elevators that led to the garrison.

"Get to the fifth floor, room B552. That's were my bunk is. I'll contact you once I manage to get out of here again."

Lars jumped out of the cabin and wanted to crouch down. He caught himself though. There was no need for running or stealth. He should try to make this seem as normal as possible. Just another trooper coming back from patrol. Picking up a more relaxed pace, Lars awakened the machine spirit of the elevator with a simple push on the button. Behind him, he could hear the heavy engine of the TRAX-12 rev, as Vishna made her way back out. Lars tried to steady his breathing. He wasn't experiencing the same feeling as on a battle field, but the fact that he was on hostile territory still made him nervous. He almost forgot to salute an officer as he left the elevator on the fifth floor.

The hallways were clean, straight and narrow. Obviously, the comfort of the enforcers wasn't high on the list of priorities of whoever had designed the HQ. The lumen strips on the ceiling had an industrial quality, shedding a harsh light into the grey hallways. The layout of the floor was pretty standard and soon enough Lars found himself before the door of Vishna's room. He pressed down the doorhandle and pushed open the door, only to be surprised by two sets of hands that grabbed him by his armour and pulled him inside. Lars lost his footing but could just make out another figure right in front of him. Using his momentum to his benefit, he pushed off with his right feet and rammed his head in the belly of the third man, crashing together into the lockers at the back of the room.

" _Peduli_! Get him!" someone cursed. Lars tried to grab his autopistol from his holster, but his movement was blocked when one of the two men that had pulled him inside, jumped onto him, ramming his shoulder against Lars' chest. The situation for the arbite became even more tedious as the third man clicked manacles around his right wrist. Beneath him, Lars could feel how the third man was trying to grab hold of his left arm. Lars frantically tried to break free, but with the weight of the man on his chest and his right arm stuck, there was no way to do so. He could feel his heart racing and his lungs desperatly trying to get enough air. His muscles acked and he realized that he wouldn't be able to overcome his assailants in a fist fight. With his own sidearm out of reach, there was only one solution. In a desperate move, Lars reached for the holster of the man beneath him and with a stroke of luck, he managed to find the trigger. He pulled it, oblivious to whatever it would hit.

The shots rang through the small room and immediately, the man beneath him started screaming. Lars didn't stop though. Another shot grazed his own armour and he could feel an intense heat as it bored itself through his armour. The man beneath him spasmed and bent his knee, causing the next bullet to hit the other man that was wrestling with Lars. Even with the cylinder empty, Lars continued to pull the trigger. The man beneath him lost his grip and the one that lay on top of him reeled backwards, keeping his hands firmly pressed on the entry wound. The last man standing looked dumbfounded at the chaos at his feet. Lars retook the initiative and pulled the man of his feet. Before the enforcer could react, Lars flipped the chain of the manacles around his throat and pulled with all his might. From the corner of his eye Lars could see how the enforcer clutching his gut wouldn't be standing up any time soon and with the amount of blood spilled on the floor, he was pretty sure that the man beneath him had bled out. The man he was strangling kicked and writhed, but lost consciousness a few moments later.

 _'They were waiting for you, Akira. Get out!'_

Whoever had set up this ambush, would soon find out that he had escaped. Lars looked at the bloody mess all over the yellow flak armour. Still, there was nothing to do but run at this point. Leaving a blood red trail of footsteps Lars stormed from Vishna's room, ignoring the questioning or alarmed looks of some enforcers that had stepped out of their quarters. Lars sprinted for the nearest emergency exit and pulled the door shut behind him, trying to create as much distance between him and the blood bath. His first concern was to get new clothes. His second to find out what had gone wrong. And of course, he still needed to find out who had betrayed him.


	34. Chapter 34: Into the lion's den

Lars was panting. He had just made it to a maintenance room after he had left the stairwell, just before he could hear excited voices coming from behind. Catching his breath, he took stock of the situation.

 _'They played it safe by checking all missing persons, Akira. They came out at Vishna and they put men where she would probably turn up.'_

At that point, the general alert rang through the hallways. Lars thought he was safe at the moment, but this hiding place wouldn't protect him forever. And he still needed more intel on who was behind all of this. An objective which seemed now further away than ever. If he were to succeed, he should regain the initiative.

"Coggie, this is Spike. Do you copy?" Lars whispered in his microbead. "Loud and clear, Spike," Vishna's answer came immediately, "What's your location?" Lars sighed. "The plan has changed. Location A was compromised." Vishna's reaction was as short as it was predictable. " _Becik._ " Lars didn't hear defeat in her voice, just anger. "We're not aborting the mission Coggie. General alert has been called off, but my destination is still location B." "What's your current location?" she asked again. "110 Grafon." Lars replied.

Lars hoped Vishna would get it. He wasn't sure their channel was secure, so he resorted to improvised codes. The 110 was binary for six and Grafon was an element of the most common cleaning agent you could find in the Imperium. This should lead her to believe that he was in the maintenance room on the sixth floor. He only hoped Vishna understood as she had to guide him to the datalooms of the enforcer HQ. There was a pause before Vishna replied. "Copy that Spike. You've got some deckhands over there?" Lars smiled with a sense of satisfaction. Vishna was doublechecking and she seemed to be on the same page. "Affirmative, Coggie." He could picture Vishna smiling as she got the reference. "Alright, you need to drop 8 and head to The Barren, perhaps half a click." Lars understood that he would have to head north. "Copy that Coggie. Perhaps you could try to..." Lars thought about the proper word. They were making it up on the spot. He wanted Vishna to try and tap in on the enforcer's frequency. It could prove to be very valuable to navigate the HQ without getting caught by the patrols that would inevitably be used to clear the building.

"Follow Cyclops protocol?" Lars' smile grew bigger. Vishna had just used an enforcer operational term to follow a target by car. He could really count on this merc. The thought that she might be the one that had signalled in the enforcers of his location, didn't even cross his mind. "Read my mind Coggie. Keep me posted. Spike out."

Lars listened intently if he could hear movement on the other side of the door, but the blaring alarm didn't leave a chance for that. Lars decided he should just make a gamble for now. He pulled the standard issue stub revolver from his holster. He had left the Pugnatis autopistol with Vishna in the truck. Otherwise, an alert enforcer might have noticed the sidearm and seen through the disguise. Now, Lars sent a prayer to the Omnissiah that His blessing would be on the gun. He would probably need it.

Slowly, he opened the door and took a peek outside. The hallway seemed deserted. Lars frowned at the sight of several doors leading to enforcer quarters left open. He wished that Vishna could send him some information, but he was pretty sure that, even though they had an enforcer issue vox caster in the back of the TRAX-12, it would take the former tech adept some time to tap into the system without the proper codes. Uneasy, Lars left his hiding place and headed immediately at the first open quarter. Stepping inside, gun raised, he checked the room. It was empty. The lockers at the back were unlocked, so Lars quickly undressed, throwing the bloodied flak armour under one of the two bunks in the room. He thought a moment about the rest of his outfit, but decided that if he came under scrutiny, he wouldn't be able to bluff his way out of it anyway. Better to minimize loss of time and go for a disguise that might withstand a cursory glance. He checked the locker for extra ammunition, or a better gun, but it seemed that the Khurry quartermasters were pretty strict and retained all weapons and ammo. Which was also good news, because it meant that most of the enforcers wouldn't have access to guns. For a short while at least.

When he left the room, he checked the hallway again. He was still surprised that not a soul had presented himself, or that the floor had been deserted in the first place. They knew his starting point, so it would only make sense to check the floors closest to that one.

 _'The Emperor must be smiling on you then, Akira. Better make use of it.'_

Lars went back to the elevators. He hoped he could gain access to one of the shafts. He didn't trust the emergency stairwells to be clear and using an elevator would be the stupidest way to give away his position. Luckily, the doors were fairly easy to wrench open and Lars looked up and down. It wouldn't do to get crushed by the carriage. However, in the faint red emergency lighting inside the shaft, Lars couldn't see the carriage. He would just have to hope that the thing wouldn't come down on his head. Carefully, Lars reached for the small iron ladder and started clambering down. As he passed the fifth floor, he still couldn't hear any other sounds. The lack of response became awfully strange, the silence in the building somehow more threatening than the noise of running feet or bellowed orders.

When Lars reached the first level, his vox unit crackled to life. "Spike, this is Coggie. Do you copy?" Lars stopped on the ladder. "This is Spike. Come in Coggie." Apparently Vishna had managed to hack the enforcer's signal. "I'm not really sure what's going down, but apparently they have used the fire alarm to clear the building." Lars digested this new information. The fire alarm would get everybody out of the building in a minimum of time. But then what? Lars hadn't started a fire and he couldn't imagine their adversaries putting the torch to their own building.

 _'What if they want the building clear so they can do as they want, Akira.'_

"Coggie, make sure you don't lose that tail." he whispered back as he put himself in motion and continued his descent. If whoever was on the list, wanted to get it back and prevent being exposed, they hardly could do it with dozens of witnesses. It was one thing to put three loyal troopers in Vishna's room, another thing entirely to start a wide sweep in the HQ, attracting all kinds of unwanted attention. Lars came at the end of the narrow ladder. He took care not to touch any power lines when he moved to the service hatch at the bottom of the shaft. He could already feel that the air was colder here. Logical if you knew that this level housed the datalooms of the enforcer HQ. As he wrenched open the elevator doors, he sent up a prayer to the Omnissiah, hoping that he would be able to track down internal communications quickly enough. With a grunt, the two doors opened and Lars stepped into the hallway. Only to be met by a cold, metallic voice. "Place your hands above your head. Identify yourself!"

Lars looked into the gloomy corridor. Only the emergency lighting was on, so he could barely make out the hulking figure before him. About a foot above eyeheight, there were some flickering red bulbs and while he raised his arms, he could hear a soft throbbing noise, not unlike a meltagun being charged. "Identify yourself within 5 seconds or be subjugated to my defenses."

 _'Classic techpriest, Akira.'_

"Regulator Lars Akira, Adepus Arbites, ID-number AA698.2144.5547.32." he said, truthfully. The techpriest moved forward and Lars could discern his forms a bit better. The head of the techpriest had been replaced with a copper cylinder, reinforced with plasteel bars. In fact, Lars doubted that the thing actually served as his head. The man wore some sort of intricate armour and on the left pauldron a whole series of auspex and augury arrays had been installed. On the right pauldron the red lightbulbs he had seen, appeared to be yet another set of visual sensors. The arms and hands of the considerably augmented techpriest were still human, but they had been reinforced by some sort of lifting harness, granting superior strength, but keeping the precision of the human hand. Parallel to the arms, two mechadendrites protruded from the shoulders of the techpriest. One clearly for utilities, the other ended in a set of metallic pins, but Lars couldn't identify the use of them. The legs of the techpriest had been replaced by a motion system, consisting of six semi-flexible legs, all of which ended in a nasty claw. The body of the techpriest was concealed by the traditional red robes. Finally, in the techpriest hands rested a melta gun, something which brought a smile of satisfaction to Lars face as he had picked up on the presence of the weapon without seeing it. He couldn't really enjoy the feeling as the other man started talking once more.

"Your presence here is... unexpected. Although the presence of non-authorized personnel within the confines of structure E002 was one of the reasons with a higher probability to explain for the incorrect use of the fire alarm." Lars had a bit of experience with techpriests and decided to ask some simple, hopefully logical, questions. "My first question to you is whether you accept my presence here." The techpriest hummed and seemed disturbed, storing the meltagun in a holster at his side, as if the gun was nothing more than a pistol to him, which, to be fair, actually was the case. "If you can present some... credentials, I would evaluate your presence as in full order." it blurted out from some unseen vox box.

Lars produced his identicard and his mandate which were subjected to close scrutiny before being handed back to him. "As far as I can tell, you are well within your rights to be here, regulator Akira. And seeing that I have no other options, nor any interest to follow up on this, I leave you to it." The techpriest started scuttling away on his six limbs, turning around with a surprising speed. When Lars called out to him, he had almost rounded one of the corners of the underground hallways. "Would you mind identifying yourself?" Lars shouted at the retreating figure. The techpriest stopped immediately and turned back to the regulator. "Are you implying that I am out of order, regulator Akira?"

Lars could swear that the metallic voice of the techpriest betrayed some sort of anger, although it would be quite unlikely for a senior techpriest to show such a feeling. "Not at all, ehrm, honored adept. But the reason for my presence is that I am in need of data housed in the datalooms you no doubt take care off. If at all possible, I would like to make use of your services. I've been told by your fellows that using proper names raises efficiency of cooperation." The adept remained quiet for about five seconds, perhaps contemplating an adequate response. "I am in the process of resolving the situation of the incorrectly used fire alarm. Although your presence in the elevator shaft might account for this, one has to be sure. The integrity of this facility is my primary concern. Also, you can adress me as Adept Kronus-5." Lars couldn't help himself and smiled. "You can rest assured, adept Kronus-5, that I in fact am the reason for the fire alarm, but not because I activated it accidentally. I'm pretty sure that you will see that someone set it off with one of the manual switches on the fifth floor of this facility. I am also sure that you will also find a continued presence of some enforcer agents in this building. My guess is that they are doing some sort of sweep of the building."

Lars waited a few seconds for the techpriest to digest this information, but faster than he expected, Kronus asked him a question he hadn't seen coming. "Seeing you are on the run, regulator, wouldn't it be far more efficient to destroy the threat instead of doing research on it? I have supreme knowledge of the location of all identified humans in this facility, including your target, I suspect. I will assist you in taking out the threat of colonel Bramha'Ustan. It is in the interest of the Imperium that you do so."

Lars didn't reply at once. He never had completely excluded colonel Bramha'Ustan from his suspicions, but he hadn't been able to dig up any evidence either. That was of course the entire reason for this raid on the enforcer HQ. But what he never would have expected was a techpriest that seemed to have prepared a judgement on a suspect. "Would you care to explain, Adept Korus?" "Five..." the adept completed his name, "But of course. Part of my duties at this station oblige me to follow vox traffic and to encrypt specific communications. When one has to encrypt communications directed to non-Imperial receivers, one is wise to monitor the contents with a bit more... scrutiny. I have known for 5.142 standard Imperial time units about this unsanctioned connection with what appears to be representatives of the Kerviel Cartel. However, my mission statement didn't include counterintelligence and the deals Bramha'Ustan made didn't harm the Adeptus Mechanicus. But with the presence of an officer of the Adeptus Arbites and his direct command to assist him, things have changed."

 _'Never count out a techpriest, Akira. Not when it comes to following protocol.'_

"Alright, Adept Kronus-5. I will not let your suggestion go to waste. Let us take care of this traitor." Lars said, grateful for this unexpected aid.

With the help of Kronus, Lars got a good view of the placement of Brahma'Ustan's men. He had told Vishna to keep vox silence. The more they talked, the higher the risk of someone picking up on the signal, even though Kronus, the ranking techpriest at the enforcer HQ, had assured him that this would not be the case.

The display Lars was looking at, showed four teams of enemy enforcers, each consisting of six men. Two of the details were going over the fourth floor, the third team remained stationary at the main entrance and the last patrol was going through the motor pool. This way they blocked off the two conventional exits. If someone would want to escape the building, he'd have to do it by air, or take his chances climbing out of one of the windows and then over the curtain wall that marked the border of the Enforcer terrain on the space port. Lars had monitored their movements for a few minutes and had come to the conclusion that he wasn't in any real danger at the moment. The problem was that he didn't really have a plan for this situation. He hadn't expected to find the lead traitor so easily. The evidence of colonel Brahma'Ustan corruption was stored on a dataslate with a safety casing and proper digital defences had been applied by Kronus. The question now was how to use the damning evidence.

"So, if I read this correctly, colonel Brahma'Ustan isn't located at the facility." Lars remarked after looking at the data. "No, Regulator. He is not, but I have located him outside with the main contingent of enforcers. Clearly this is part of his cover as a desk jockey, but when the alarm went off, he managed to vox these men." Kronus pointed at the red dots moving inside the limits of the green schematics. Lars wondered only a moment about how the rigid techpriest had picked up the term desk jockey and focused on the task at hand. "We need the man back inside. Can't go and judge him before his men. Even if they aren't in on the Cartel deal, chances are they will pick the side of their CO, rather than some random Arbite." "I expect so," Kronus agreed, "These enforcers are hardly men of principles, let alone having the spine to stand up for them. Your analysis is correct. Colonel Brahma'Ustan needs to be isolated." Lars frowned. That was easier said then done. "But even if we manage to do so, I'm going to need backup from a local officer. The question remains of course who can be trusted and who would stand up to the traitors." A soft humming came from Kronus' 'head', perhaps contemplating the question. "I expect captain Kamal might be able and willing." the techpriest finally answered.

Lars recognized the name. He wasn't on the Cartel's payroll, but if Vishna was right, the man was equally corrupt. Aside from the possible collateral damage of putting the chief of the HWMV-department at the head of the enforcers. "He might not be the best choice, Adept." Lars decided. Next he tapped on the microbead in his ear, opening his channel to Vishna. "Coggie, this is Spike, come in." Lars gave Kronus-5 an apologetic shrug, but as far as he could see, the techpriest wasn't bothered by Vishna's code name.

"You're coming in loud and clear Spike. So far, no changes." Vishna reported. "Good. I've received some help from someone on 8. The tactical situation is clear." Lars could hear the mercenary whistle through her teeth. "Excellent. Perhaps your new friend can help us with our objective." "Already taken care off," Lars agreed, "It's now time to pick an heir. Who do you think would be open for a game of regicide. And who's got the guns to back his claim up." A curse in disbelief followed his question. " _Becek_ Spike. It isn't exactly a rich crop around here, you know?" Vishna kept quiet and considered the potential allies. "Perhaps the Vostroyan," she finally concluded, "but she's pretty close to the king."

Lars turned to the techpriest. He'd been listening in on the conversation. "Kirilenko. As far as my records show, she's in the clear." the lumbering techpriest confirmed. Lars thanked Vishna for her input and cut the line. Next he asked Kronus for a secure line to major Kirilenko. It was a bit of a gamble, but what choice did he have. Kronus established a vox line and informed the major that there had been no good reason for the alarm. He also told her that he did have some idea why the fire alarm had gone off and that if she liked, could talk to the reason in person. Lars took over the hardwired voxcapter.

 _'Vostroyan, Akira. Most of that wintery bunch you met seemed to appreciate efficiency and directness.'_

A clear and strong voice came over the vox. You could tell that this was an offworlder. "Yez. And who iz thiz?" "Regulator Lars Akira, Adeptus Arbites." Lars identified himself again. "You hav cleared our HQ. Why iz thiz Regulator?" Obviously, Lars had to clarify some things. "Not quite, major. I'm gonna be straight with you. I've got a list of bent enforcers. A lot of bodies who value the coin of the Kerviel Cartel over their duty to the Throne." "I zee. _Osbachats_!" the Vostroyan's voice had deepened and Lars felt like she was far from happy to hear this. Which was a good thing. "The fact is that your superior, colonel Brahma'Ustan, appears on the list as well." " _Bred sivoy kobyly_. Your proof regulator?" Lars was reassured that this woman wouldn't believe no matter what. And luckily so, because his story was far less appealing that Brahma'Ustan's version of the facts. "I've got it right here." The major took on a businesslike attitude. "Your lokation?" she demanded. "Basement level 3. I'm with adept Kronus-5." Lars answered truthfully. " _Vskapyvat_. Tell the adept that he muzt lift the fire alarm. I will meet with you there."

True to his quest for efficiency, Kronus was already opening the channel to general command. Without much ado, he stated that the premises had been checked and that no signs of fire had been detected. The most likely explanation was a faulty sensor. Lars heard Kronus grudgingly apologize for this. His staff would immediately start with the procedures to recalibrate every and all heat and smoke detectors. The adept finished with saying that the building was clear once more and that there was no reason what so ever for the enforcers to remain outside.

At the other end of the line, Lars could hear how Brahma'Ustan hesitated for a second, but then agreed to go back to normal operations. By sending the message over the general command channel, the colonel couldn't really refuse without attracting unwanted attention to his actions. Next, came major Kirilenko's voice through the vox, making sure that she could meet with Lars.

"Colonel, I will hav short talk with Adept Kronuz. Thiz miztake haz zeverely hampered our operational readiness." This time, Lars could see that despite Kronus's lack of a conventional face, he most certainly did not approve of this phrasing. "It's all for the good cause, adept Kronus-5. Trust me."


	35. Chapter 35: Demise

_+++5.563.986.M41+++_  
 _+++The Hole, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Khurry Spaceport - Enforcer HQ+++_

The meeting with the major had gone smoothly, as Kirilenko had lived up to the Vostroyan standards of efficiency and bluntness. Kronus-5 had assisted in the making of the plan and with their help it was easy enough to get Vishna back inside the compound. She and Lars had found a place to stay with the engineseers on the basement level and although Vishna had complained continuously about the lack of comfort - the Mechanicus staff adhered to a more sobre line of the Omnissiah's followers - but the cells were at least sufficiently isolated from the machine hall down the hall so they could get some rest.

While they had been resting, major Kirilenko had been busy setting up some details that were free of compromised men. And then their plan had been set in motion. Lars listened in on the conversation between Kronus and colonel Brahma'Ustan.

"Yes colonel. I understand that we're out of daylight for quite some time, but that doesn't change the situation. We've found a wounded man in section 53 of basement level 3 who hasn't been able to properly identify himself. His story is... confusing... At best... so I would like you to inspect the subject yourself." Lars could see that Kronus-5 wasn't completely at ease with this conversation. Whether it was because he had to lie, or that he just didn't like communicating with normal people was anyone's guess. "And why did you come to me for this? There is an officer of the watch for this kind of _becek_ , Adept." The other man didn't seem at all pleased with being disturbed during nighttime. "Obviously, colonel," the adept replied rather deadpan, "But the intruder tried to bring his presence in compliance with mention of the Adeptus Arbites. I gathered this might be a situation you would like to handle... personally."

It remained quiet at the other end of the line for a few moments. Then Brahma'Ustan scraped his throat and commended Kronus for his judgement. Praise the techpriest dismissed as irrelevant only to repeat his request that the colonel would come down to take care of the situation.

"So regulator Akira. We meet again..." It had only took the corrupt colonel ten minutes to arrive at the basement level, which meant he had rushed himself, but when he stood before Lars, he produced the same dreary and monotone voice, just like the first time they had met. Lars looked up at the man from the ground. His left pant leg was soaked with synaptic fluids from a servitor which looked exactly like human blood. An empty holster and some improvised bindings, a chain from one of the heating installations, made the picture complete. All there was to see was a beaten man, relieved of his weapons and left to the mercy of his captors. Kronus-5 stepped back to give the colonel some privacy.

"It seems your endeavours here, have been... let us say... not very succesful." Brahma'Ustan continued, his face still blank. "Colonel? Perhaps you can enlighten me? What the frak is going on?" Lars played along. "Really Regulator? You believe you can trick me like that?" Now, Lars could see the beginning of a smug smile on the officer's face. Lars for his part, kept up the charade. "Trick you, but... Why?" "Let us dispense with the pleasantries, Regulator. I can't say I expected you to uncover so much, but let us be honest. It was hardly because of your efforts. If that poor Shaneshabad hadn't been so greedy, you would have missed all of us, wouldn't you? That stupid _bodho_." Lars faked a look of slow understanding. He underlined it with what must be in the colonel's eyes, a rather belated hypothesis. "So, it was you who sent Akhil and his men after us." The colonel shook his head. "Not you, just Shaneshabad. After he met with captain Prabhudestan, his plans became clear. Unfortunately Akhil was an incompetent fool. Perhaps the reason for his lack of progress through the command structure. If you see a man that has been a sergeant for more than 20 years, one knows enough, right Regulator?" Lars thought he could hear another jab in that. His age would suggest that he'd been in the Arbites for quite some time. Apparently the colonel hadn't read or hadn't had access to his file, since Lars' had actually very little experience to warrant his current rank of regulator. "Yeah. I guess so." he replied, a bit sheepishly.

Brahma'Ustan remained silent for a moment. Lars could see that he was thinking about something, a problem he couldn't quite solve. "Got a problem?" he ventured. "As a matter of fact, yes, Regulator. I'm trying to come up with some kind of... solution for my latest problem. There aren't exactly regulations for this situation." the colonel answered, painfully slow again. "Meaning?" "How to get rid of a troublesome arbite. The mercenary woman won't pose much of a problem. Even is she would manage to get off world, there's hardly something a woman in her position could do, right? A lack of proper function or good reputation can be quite something to overcome. And Shaneshabad... well, I don't know if you care to tell me his whereabouts, but even if you don't, he won't be breathing for long no more. Disloyalty to the Cartel is giving yourself the death penalty, whether he stays here or moves on. But you, arbite. You pose a different problem entirely. I'm quite sure there aren't that many of you around. You're the first one of your department that set foot on our little mudball for the last thirty years. That is, if our Administratum records are to be trusted." The officer laughed, finding his own joke funny somehow, but he turned serious quickly enough. "However, the problem with your type is that if one goes missing, another one shows up, doesn't it? You're like _reged_ mudwasps."

Lars tried to look concerned now and started to plead. "If you're worried about us, Colonel, I might be able to propose you a deal. We can always use a smart guy that has an in with the Cartel. We might not be paying what they are, but at least it'll solve this problem. And if things go wrong, we've got excellent witness protection..." The look on Brahma'Ustan's face became ice cold. "Spare me, Regulator. This is the Kerviel Cartel we're talking about. Your protection programs are as useful as a whore with mudfever... No. I'm not taking any chances. The swamps have swallowed many problematic... individuals before. It won't object to another corpse, I'm sure." "But..." Lars started to protest, but the colonel raised his hands in denial. "I'm afraid our ways separate at this point, Regulator. We won't be seeing each other no more. The task of dumping you will fall to someone else. Procedure before everything, no?" The smugness had returned on his face. Apparently the man had convinced himself that any other Arbites coming to investigate Lars' disappearance would have to be dealt with in their good time. "Sure, Colonel. I'm glad you agree."

Brahma'Ustan had already been turning away from the figure on the floor but stopped his movement, surprised as he was by that last comment. "Colonel Brahma'Ustan," Lars continued, "I find you guilty of treason. You are sentenced to death. But first you will be handled by our chastener division. You will forgive me for not quoting the proper article of Holy Imperial Law. I seem to have misplaced my codex."

For the first time during the meeting, Lars could see some kind of doubt in the colonel's eyes. He was utterly surprised and not by Lars' disrespect for regulations. Lars could see how the surprise turned into despair, when the colonel saw the three lasguns at his back, one of which was the improvised contraption Vishna used.

"I'm afraid the Regulator iz correct, kolonel. Pleaze hand over your zidearm." The presence of major Kirilenko seemed to be the finishing blow. Brahma'Ustan's arms went limp and even though he had meant to give some kind of order, now the only thing that came out of his mouth was a strange blowing sound, something like a fish trying to breath on dry land.

Lars disposed of the improvised manacles and fetched a real pair from behind his back handing them to Vishna. "And don't worry about Shaneshabad either. We'll sort him out." Vishna said with a vicious smile on her face, but it appeared that the man had become the least of Brahma'Ustan's troubles.

* * *

 _+++6.601.986.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++The Unwanting Revenge - Interview rooms+++_

"So, the intel we got from Radashendra was tainted?" The familiar voice asked. "Well, sorta. The intel was good, as we knew it was since the raids it led to were a success. We just didn't know that by taking out those targets, we were also creating opportunities for the Cartel." The man next to Lars sighed. "... It's hard to come by good intel. And it's even harder to foresee everything our actions provoke or cause. But that's the nature of the game Lars. You shouldn't be bothered by that."

Lars remained silent. Both he and Frank were looking from behind a mirror to the conversation that was taking place between the judge and Vishna. Lars had offered her a chance to get a position with the Arbites. He'd thought that Arthur would be charmed by the woman's direct attitude and her capacity to think for herself. She'd gone through some physical tests and now Belloran was conducting the interview. Or what should pass for an interview because it seemed the judge was doing all the talking, as usual.

"Did the chasteners make any headway with the interrogations?" the regulator asked. "Yes. Especially with that Shaneshabad character. Perhaps colonel Brahma'Ustan was the hightest ranking informant of the Cartel, but apart from a drop location for his information, he didn't have all that much contact with the Kerviel agents. Shaneshabad on the other hand seems to be as slithery as a coggie in an oil bath. Although he only took over from Radashendra for a few months, he managed to wurm himself quite deeply in the Highfield Cartel's business. I'd like to think that he knows more than they wanted him to know. The Chief Chastener tells me that there's still a lot of unexplored territory." Lars grunted approvingly. "So that might get us another in on the Cartel?" But the other man shrugged, not convinced. "It might. But the Cartels are only one of the things that are on our plate."

Lars saw Frank flinch when the pile of orderly stacked documents he had prepared for the interview were scattered by a flamboyant swing of Belloran's arm, covering the entire room in swirling papers. Lars smiled. "He hasn't changed a bit, has he?" When Horrigan didn't reply, Lars looked sideways. He could see a troubled look on the man's face. And some reluctance to get into it, if Lars could read the man properly.

"What is it, Frank?" Lars probed. "I'm not supposed to discuss this with you Lars." Frank said, without looking at the regulator. "Let's just say that the number of cases is growing and that our means to handle them are swindling. Arthur isn't too happy about it, but there is only so much he can do. As far as we can tell, the enitre sector might be endangered. Communications with the Imperium have been..." Frank paused for a second and then started over. "The judge..." Lars didn't look at Frank, giving him the time to compose his thoughts, but when Horrigan spoke up again, Lars could hear in his voice that he was being fobbed off. "It's just that he's been in a rotten mood these last few weeks. I'm glad you brought him someone new that might assist us. On paper she didn't really look like much, but I've got to tell you that she has surprised me already and that she might continue to do so in the future."

It was quite Obvious that Frank had steered the conversation away from whatever was troubling the judge and Lars knew that it was no use to try to probe Horrigan again. The fact that he slipped this much already was a sign that whatever they were dealing with, was big. Frank wouldn't repeat his mistake.

"Get some R&R, Lars. It won't be long before you're back in the field."

* * *

 _+++5.632.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Juno, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Romanov - Anastasia Noble Estate+++_

The room they found themselves in was dark, the only illumination coming from a set of dimmed glowglobes set in intricate golden armatures against the walls. The air was warm and perfumed and around the large black obsidian table six figures had taken place. Small, chromed viewscreens were placed in carefully cut out indentations, so that they each could follow the briefing they were receiving. There were no servants in the room and the men and women had each served themselves with a glass of the finest amasec, wine or procello. When the briefing was over, the masked figures looked at one another, waiting for the first one to speak up.

"A minor setback at The Hole it appears." a deep rumbling voice said. "And not one we can't recover from instantly." added a high pitched feminin voice. Both voices remained silent as no confirmation came from the others. After half a minute, a third person spoke up, with a calm and steady voice. One could hear that he had spend numerous years preaching. "Perhaps a minor setback in results, but one we need to rectify immediately. But more importantly, another blow to our operations from the same hand as before. You will all remember that at Phlegethon it was the same man who caused a valuable contract to go to waste." "It is time that we take care of this nuisance." Another man added, his voice deformed through a vox box.

Things remained silent for a while. "It is decided then. The arbite must meet his end. Et statuit Conexus Kerviel" the fifth figure said. The six figures rose and each took off in another direction, heading for one of the many doors that gave access to the room. When all but one remained, another figure came loose from the shadows.

"Magister Graz, make sure this decision is seen to. Your men will get limited access to our house armoury. Regulator Akira appears to be someone that carries the luck of the Emperor with him. A little help will do you good." The man standing besides the man at the table, bowed like a switchknife, expressing his utmost respect for the other. "Thank you for your offer, magister Salomon. We will put it to good use. Soon, this little thorn in our side will sting no more."


	36. Chapter 36: Meeting Willis

_+++5.815.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Vostroya, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Alyevsky Spaceport - Gustav's Kafe+++_

Their meeting had been planned meticulously, but for all the planning, it would only take an hour, two max. One of them would stay behind, while the other would continue his travel along the stars. Both of them were staring at their glass of dryké and the mood was dour.

"So, no further progress to report then?" Lars asked, loud enough so the other man could hear him over the racket the natives were making. "No, none so frakking ever." Willis' voice carried a tone of defeat. Lars wasn't used to it and he studied the other man's face as Willis looked at a brawl breaking out at the bar where two blackhaired Vostroyans with their typical thick moustaches had decided that their drinking contest had grown into a boxing match. Lars could see that the man across had aged quite a bit since they had last met aboard the _Revenge_. His hair was a bit thinner and his skin had caught a greyish gleam.

"So, what's your next step?" If anything, Lars wanted to help the other man with his investigation. Although he had saved Willis' life back on Phlegethon, he was still at a disadvantage. If he could start repaying his debt to the man by aiding him, it would be the least he could do. Willis had been assigned to this mission even before Lars had been able to lose the wheelchair. The fact that he was no closer to apprehending the former captain of the _Warrior of the Warp_ since then, was testament to the difficulty of the task, not the qualities of his fellow arbite.

"I don't think I have much choice in the matter, Lars. Even though my cover is blown here, I've still got the bastard pinned down on this planet. The Vostroyans are pretty sharp when it comes to security. I hear their firstborn regiments are quite prized on the front lines. I've visited the command center of system security. Apart from hitching a ride with a frakking rogue trader, he's not getting off the planet. They don't look kindly to smuggling here, I can tell you that." When his ship arrived at Vostroya, Lars had heard the same stories from his fellow crew mates. They had told him that he shouldn't come close to anything shady. Apart from Katrina's brothel, where the shades only hid more potential pleasure. If the Vostroyan enforcers would get their hands on a smuggler, the entire crew would be made an example off. Lars had witnessed the cruel tradition first handedly when they had docked at one of the orbital platforms. On the way to the surface, he'd seen some corpses chained to the station, naked in the void and burned black by stellar winds. It had only confirmed his own believes which he based on his dealings with major Kirilenko back on The Hole.

"How about I get you a new cover. My captain hasn't got a clue of what's going on in the belly of the ship and I've got some credit with the chief of my gang. We could easily set you up with an ID. Make you look like you ditched ship and got stranded here. It might give you an edge on him." Willis rolled the clear fluid around in his glass as he considered Lars' proposal. Lars took a swig of his own glass, coming once more to the conclusion that Gustav's dryké wasn't anything to write home about. "Nah. I think I'll pass, gov. This guy is sleek. Too sleek to underestimate. We would probably endanger your own cover and you seem to be making good headway yourself."

Lars couldn't deny the truth. By bringing Willis into his inner circle, he would raise suspicion among his fellow crewmates. And they seemed to be a promising lead in tracking down the source of a seemingly endless supply of heretical amulets. "No Lars. I'll have to figure this one out myself." Willis repeated, more convinced this time. He swallowed the last of his dryké and apparently he had closed the subject. Apart from a new cover, Lars didn't have much to offer, so he let it be. It wasn't like he was Willis' superior. Both men were regulators in their own right, both had their orders from the judge. And Willis' update about his hunt for the captain of the _Warrior of the Warp_ hadn't been the only reason for this meeting Frank had set up.

"Though I might have some intel you could use for your mission, Lars." Willis continued. "I've stumbled over some of those amulets of yours. But these were quite something else than the mess you began with, as far as I can say." The fight at the bar had escalated and it appeared as if the Vostroyan locals had stepped on the toes of a bunch of burly sailors. Most of the customers of Gustav's Kafe were paying close attention - some of them betting on the outcome, while others made sure they stayed out of reach of the jumble of flailing arms - and those that weren't paying attention seemed to be happy with the distraction and focused on their own business. Willis used the distraction to slip Lars a little, flat wooden chest. The lid of the box had been engraved with high gothic words and the edge had been decorated with small pearls. Lars palmed the thing and put it in his lap, quickly opening it to find something he recognized in an instance.

The amulet was made of silver and glass. What it represented was still open for discussion, but whatever it was... it was something vile. Caught in a double silver ring was a glass marble, this time made from green emerald. Inside you could see a healthy, naked man, but when you slid the rings over each other, the fresh green colour turned to a more dirty shade and the picture of the man changed to something else. Horrigan had described it as some sort of reptile or a drake. That hadn't meant anything to Lars, but the clerk had explained that it was an ancient symbol, its origins lost in time. But it stood for a primal, but evil power. "Definitely not the thing the Ecclesiarchy wants the people to rally behind, old chap" Arthur had said. The last years, more and more of the things had turned up in the sector, but those were of a quality far below this one. Most of the times the rings were made of common iron and the marble from simple glass. The dossier had landed on Belloran's desk after a few years when someone had decided that "the frakking things were being spread all over the sector, which made it a dossier for the naval arbites." So when he had come back from The Hole, Lars had been briefed and send back on his way to find the source of the amulets.

After a quick look on the thing, Lars shoved it in one of the dozen pockets of his worker's fatigues. It was one of the few upsides of his cover: sturdy clothes under which he could almost hide his sawn-off shotgun. The long working hours, the heavy manual labour and the almost constant lack of privacy were the main downsides. It would be quite the endeavour to hide the little box without the rest of his gang noticing. When he looked back up, Lars could see that Willis was already checking the room, trying to see if anyone had picked up on the switch. Lars joined him and scanned the room thoroughly according to the screening patterns Horrigan had taught them. But it seemed the barfight had served well as a distraction.

"Almost time to split." Willis said, although Lars mostly understood by reading his lips as the noise of shattering glass and breaking furniture drowned out all the other sounds. "Found it during a raid on a noble's estate. With a connection to one of Orinoca's houses, Plutarch. Seems like the heir is deep in this crap." Lars only nodded. The local enforcers would soon arrive to separate the warring parties. A conclusion the other, more shady customers of Gustav had also come to as most of them were making their way out of the bar. Both men stood up and Lars grabbed the other man by the wrist. A gesture Willis answered. Lars looked the other man in the eyes. "The Emperor will provide Walther. I have every confidence in Him and you. Find the _skitbag_ and bring him to the judge. I could definitely use you by my side for this, my friend."

It might have been the poor lighting in the bar, but Lars could swear that the words reached the other man as the look Willis gave him as they let go of each other's wrist was nothing like the one he had seen when they had first met at the bar. Lars turned around and ducked under a thrown clay mug as he waded through the mass, making his way back to his crew and his ship.

"I won't let you down, my friend." Willis whispered as Lars disappeared into the cold night.

* * *

 _+++5.905.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Orinoca, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Gaelian Star - lower enginarium+++_

Lars stepped out from under the improvised shower his crew had been using for the last few weeks. Somewhere higher up in the Enginarium some pipes must have burst and they had started leaking cooling water. Henriksen, one of the brighter members of the workgang, had determined that the water had a better temperature and was significantly cleaner than whatever was used for the communal showers at the crew's quarters. So, the gang leader, Magnus, had said that they could use it instead for as long as the techpriests continued to pump fresh water into the cooling system. Lars started to dry himself off, getting ready to make planetfall.

It had taken the best part of three months to reach Orinoca and Lars thanked the Emperor every day for that, because it was a stroke of luck that they had made port here. Although his investigation aboard the _Gaelian Star_ had seemed promising to begin with - Lars had found evidence enough that Magnus was into the amulet business up to his neck - the actual connections remained out of sight. The piece of information Willis had dug up was far more promising. But to look into the business he had to reach the Orinoca system first. And make planetfall. Which he was preparing for now. After his shower, which would - even with the pure water - would only leave him marginally more clean, he'd have to get hold of his weapons & cash and make his way to the surface of the hive world. Lars was just about ready to leave for the hiding place of his equipment, when he was brutally disturbed by the gang leader.

"So, Christianson. Trying you luck getting off the old tub, are you?" Lars tried not to look startled, but Magnus had a way of sneaking up on his crew members. A quality that made him such an effective overseer, thought Lars, but also one that made it all the more risky to keep this cover. Lars would be able to jump ship at every port they arrived at, but if he would be made in transit, things might not go too well for him. "Of course chief. I'm surprised you won't give it a go." But Lars had build a solid relation with the overseer. The fact that they both shared some genetic similarities and that they both had worked at the Harland docks on Rexon had been a boon for establishing trust. Plus, Lars had shown himself easy to handle, keeping his complaints mostly for himself and volunteering occasionally for the more shitty jobs down here.

"We'll be docked here for at least a week, Lars. I'll try my chances tomorrow. It'll be far less crowded in the shuttles. You never know if those flight crews won't overload and drop out of the sky, you know. Hah." Lars had kept his first name, something which made it a lot easier to play your role. Frank had thought him that answering to your name is one of the more persistent reflexes a man picks up during the years. Only the Emperor knew how many agents had been made by making a mistake like that. And the Administratum of course. Provided they could dig up the data themselves. "So, any good spots that I should hit here? Haven't been here before, chief. Where are you going?" Lars asked. For a moment, Lars could see how a frown formed between Magnus's heavy brows, but it disappeared almost immediately. But to Lars it had been a telling sign that the man was about to lie or cover something up. "Orinoca, Lars, has everything a sailor far from home would want. I suppose the flyboys will hit hive Bora. There used to be a place on the southern flank called Uwahara. The girls were clean there, but they also knew how to get one dirty, if you're catching my drift. I might be going there." Magnus replied. Lars was pretty sure that if he would chose to be in the company of Uwahara's girls, he wouldn't be seeing Magnus anytime soon.

 _'He's probably meeting up with a supplier or a large customer, Akira.'_

But at this point, there wasn't much Lars could do. Tracking down one of Magnus' suppliers would be progress, but he had to take the opportunity to go after the Plutarch connection. Spreading heretical trinkets among ship hands definitely qualified for attention of the Adeptus Arbites, but such things spreading among the nobility scored way higher on the priority list. Arthur had learned him that you always had to take into account the multiplier effect: "A heretic is a heretic, Lars. Bashing in his skull is always a plus. But by bashing the right heretic you'll achieve more than just randomly picking skulls to crash. I don't have to explain that a low-level ganger can cause far less problems than a PDF general, right?"

Lars smiled at the foreman. "Thanks for the advice chief. I'll be mentioning your name if I manage to stop by. Perhaps I could score a discount." Lars said cheerfully.  
But with a mean looking smile, the other man replied, "Better not Akira. Don't think they quite enjoyed my last pass." Almost immediately, Lars returned Magnus' smile with his own wicked grin. Frowning upon his implied bad behaviour wouldn't exactly be beneficial for staying on Magnus' good side. "Just make sure you get back aboard on time Lars. I'd hate to have to keep your pay from the last two months!" The crew only got paid after they left the system. It was one of Magnus' little rules. It definitely made sure that, contrary to others, his crew almost always was complete when they left. And officers didn't mind, because sailors with cash were far more interesting in the gambling pits than those that had burned through their money at the last stop. Lars left for the locker room, stalling for time until he was sure Magnus would have left. Although they saw eye to eye, Magnus hadn't tried to include Lars into his little scheme. Which meant he didn't trust him enough yet. Chances were that Magnus had deliberately checked on him.

After ten minutes of rummaging through his locker, Lars headed out of the lower enginarium, apparently heading for the flight decks of the ship. He took some back tunnels to make sure he wasn't being followed. He hadn't gotten this far in the game by cutting corners. Even though he hadn't caught a glimp of Magnus, or one of his cronies for that matter, when he came out of the lockerroom, he wasn't taking any chances. Hearing only his own footsteps in the empty corridors, Lars felt satisfied and he diverted to one of the lower decks, the one containing the promethium reserves for the ship's lighters. Lars had picked that deck in particular to hide his gear as it stank like nothing else and therefore wasn't used as a gambling pit or hiding place. Apart from the ventrats and the occasional rigger, nobody visited that deck. In an abandoned pipe, Lars found his equipment waiting. His trusty Pugnatis autopistol, an armoured bodyglove, a vox capter, a few packs of thrones and finally the Alpha pass with his biometrics. The leather pouch the pass was in had been ripped and torn and he'd put it in another pipe. Being made by your badge was another one of those easy mistakes for someone undercover.

Four hours and an inconvenient trip down later, Lars found himself on Bora's spaceport. Without much thought he mingled with the local populace and disappeared in one of the many lightning car stations, putting as much distance between him and his fellow crew mates as possible.


	37. Chapter 37: House Plutarch

_+++5.909.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Orinoca, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Tonga - Plutarch noble's estate+++_

Sometimes the most simple plans were the best. And with only a week on Orinoca, there wasn't much time for complexity. And taking a week for this would already put a strain on his cover as Magnus would definitely ask some questions about how it was possible that he stayed off board for so long on his enginarium worker pay. So although Lars hadn't actually thrown caution to the wind, he hadn't been inconspicuous either. He'd used the public lightning cars to get to Bora's middle hive and had entered a shop for some new clothes. It had taken him some effort to convince the owner that he actually had the cash to pay for a new set of clothes and even with his money on the counter, the man across still had judged it beneath his dignity to actually help him pick something out.

The result was that Lars had bought a random combination of Orinoca's native clothes. Luckily the local culture was dominated by an obsession to create clothes as wide as possible, so it had been easy to conceal his bodyglove under the flashy green fabric of the coat and trousers. However, it also meant that, on his way to the middle hive's space port, he had stumbled quite a few times, until he had found discrete lines which were used to attach the inside of the clothes firmly to ones legs, arms and body. On the spaceport he hadn't had time to fake an ID so he had travelled under his alias to hive Tonga. Once there he had spent a short night in a decent hotel, but he had been up and about before daybreak to reach the upper hive. Once there he had broken into a small, but richely decorated chapel to Saint Camillus and he had stolen the opulent chasuble of the local clergyman. With this new disguise he had fasttalked his way into the Plutarch domain, telling the doorman that was still wiping the sleep out of his eyes that the lady of the house had called on him. Luckily for him, there was a lady of the house, but from the surprised look of the doorman, she clearly wasn't a very devote follower of the Imperial Creed. Lars hadn't waited to explain himself and had just walked onwards. He had heard the guard scrape his voice, but without looking he had called out a blessing for the man and that the Emperor would lead him to his destination.

Now, Lars was walking the upper floors of the estate where the silence was only broken by the coming and going of the occasional chambermaid. Most members of the noble family and their entourage were still sound asleep, but Lars knew that it wouldn't last forever. He had stashed the ecclesiarchy robes in one of the many empty guest chambers and was now stalking the hallways in his black armoured bodyglove, keeping to the shadows as much as he could.

 _'Ok, Akira. You need to find some evidence on this noble fraks.'_

But the complexity and the cheer size of the estate made that quite difficult. And at the back of his head, the image of the startled guard at the gate was nagging at him. With no one to guide him, Lars was starting to regret his decision to put speed over caution. He considered taking one of the chambermaids into custody, but thought better of it. It would be one more witness to take care off. The light of Orinoca's sun was now softly shining through the large red-and-blue windows and the level of activity was on the rise. The chance that he would be found was becoming greater and greater and without inspiration to find the Plutarch heir, Lars felt more and more uncomfortable. When he almost bumped into a duo of servants driving a laundry chariot, Lars left the main hallways and took to the servant network. Like most nobles, the Plutarch family had made it so that the servants remained mostly out of sight. Apart from the ones they called on and those were probably selected on their good looks. Of course, these corridors and stairwells weren't as refurbished as the main halls and the architect had to twist and turn them so they fitted inside the structure. Which made them easier to hide in and that was what Lars was looking for now. They were also a lot harder to navigate and soon, Lars wasn't only lost for a plan, but also lost for directions.

 _'Frak Akira. You won't be able to hide here indefinitely. And you shouldn't be hiding, but finding intel.'_

Lars hid himself between two laundry containers and thought about his situation for a moment. As he was thinking about finding a way to move freely through the estate, his eye fell on a piece of laundry. It was part of a servants uniform. With a solution for his first problem, he turned his mind to the next: finding out about the trade in amulets. He thought of several approaches to this problem - taking the guy in, searching his rooms, following him around - but in order for them to work, he still needed more intel.

 _'Only a fool never changes his mind, Akira. You're going to need information. Now pick a good source so it will be worth while.'_

Only minutes later, Lars put his plan in action. Without knocking he walked into, he assumed, one of the many laundry facilities of the estate. Not giving the servants the time to think Lars asked for the Major Domo's desk. He hoped he had pronounced it correctly, but they seemed to understand what he was asking and a fat brown woman with, arguably, the cleanest uniform gave him directions.

Although her instructions weren't very clear, Lars didn't risk asking for her to come with. It would only lead to questions. Luckily for him, the Major Domo's offices were easily recognizable. As the head of the servants, he had gotten an office that would put those of the most middle cadre Administratum clerks to shame. A thick blue carpet covered the floor of the large room with an Imperial-colonial styled desk and a heavy wooden table with matching chairs that must have been imported from beyond the sector. A few portraits on the wall were lit by a discrete, but expensive looking chandelier. At the desk, a pale and narrow face looked up and a pair of black eyes stared at Lars.

"Yes?" The voice of the Major Domo was extremely shrill. It remembered Lars of the sound the huge circle chainsaws made back at the docks when used for cutting out large pieces of ruined steel. Only a bit softer. Lars could have easily drawn his gun, but if the woman was a bit loyal to her House, she would defy him. And he couldn't imagine the Plutarch family putting someone of questionable loyalty on this post. Besides, he was counting on her loyalty for this makeshift plan to work.

"Regulator Lars Akira, Adeptus Arbites. You'll have to excuse my arrival, but if you want to save this House, I'll need some help." Lars threw his alpha pass on the desk. He moved closer to the woman and bored his eyes into hers, not giving her the chance to come up with excuses. "The Heir of House Plutarch has committed treason against the Imperium and the Holy Emperor Himself. I'm giving you one chance and one chance only to set this right." Lars continued. The woman hesitated. "But... Is the Master of the House, lord Belfonian... Does he know you are here?" she replied. Lars had to give her credit. Under these circumstances, most would have caved in, but the woman kept her wits and asked a question of herself. "He does not and for the time being, he may not. You will inform him later of this, when my business here is concluded. Will you cooperate? Will you stand by Imperial Law?"

Clearly, the woman was well trained, because instead of inclining, she picked up the Alpha and studied it for a moment. Lars could see doubt in her eyes. And fear. Lars could read her thoughts as they were becoming visible on her face, one after another. She might be able to think on her feet, but to combine that with subterfuge? No, Lars believed her when he saw the doubt changing to disbelief and then, not as he expected, to curiosity. "Of course I will support you... regulator... Akira," she said while she returned the damaged leather pouch with the Alpha, "but perhaps you can enlighten me and tell me what you expect of me. And why my house is under scrutiny." "It's not under scrutiny, it is on trial." Lars replied bluntly. "The heir to the throne of House Plutarch is involved in the trade of heretical objects. We have established his guilt and the guilt of his betters that should have prevented this in the first place." Lars replied, and he could see that the fear that she had mastered moments ago, resurfaced.

 _'First you threaten her, next you give them a way out, Akira.'_

"However, the Adeptus Arbites has no interest in destabilizing House Plutarch or the balance of power in Hive Tonga. If you cooperate now, I will leave it to the Pater Familias to deal with this situation." It was a bit of a gamble, because if the woman at the other side of the monumental desk decided not to play nice, he didn't really have the support to actually do anything. The local enforcers would certainly think twice before engaging one of the noble families and their allies. But the look of curiosity on the Major Domo's face disappeared and made place for another one: resignation. Inside Lars could feel a sense of triumph, but he squashed it as he wasn't even close to the desired endresult. "I see you understand. Bring me to the suite of lord Kasparin." Lars finished.

Now that the woman had decided where her loyalties lay, she didn't waste any more time. At a brisk pace she stormed out of her office and led Lars through the maze of service tunnels and badly lit stairwells. Finally, they came to a small service entrance. The Major Domo indicated that it was their destination and took a step back. Lars pulled his autopistol from behind his belt and clicked off the safety. Quietly he tried the doorhandle. Without fault, the door opened to the inside and Lars stepped into the room.

Even though Lars had some experience with noble estates - he still vividly remembered Lady Niala's estate back on Phlegethon - he didn't really expect what he saw. Phlegethon had been a backwater world after all. Everything he saw here was decorated: an enormous fresco was painted on the entire surface of the ceiling, a dozen of crystal chandeliers hanging down and spreading a soft light, a single, monumental bed in the middle of the room, raised on a dais so it dominated the entire room. And in the bed, Lars could see that lord Kasparin was actually pretty busy, having two naked servants taking care of him.

 _'Good, Akira. The fragger will be completely disorientated.'_

Lars gave the room another quick scan and heard a gasping noise from behind him when the Major Domo entered the room as well. Lars ignored her and started marching towards the bed, a good thirty meters further. He kept his weapon in sight, but not aimed at Kasparin. When he was at about ten metres of the bed, one of the girls noticed him and yelled.

"Major Domo, please take care of the two girls if you please!" the regulator commanded as he used the last moments of confusion of his target to completely close the distance. He could see how the other man was quickly coming to terms with the situation and how his hand was already moving towards a discretely hidden button in one of the four wooden beams around the bed.

"Keep your hands where I can see them, frag!" Lars yelled, but the nobleman wasn't used to taking orders and his hand continued to go towards the button. Lars didn't hesitate. A flick of his wrist and he held his pistol by the barrel. Next, a sweeping motion and a gratifying cracking noise. The result: a broken nose and a look of utter disbelief on Kasparin's face. Standing beside the bed, Lars noticed a silver collar around Kasparin's neck. The man was wearing his heretical jewelry himself.

 _'Caught with his pants down, Akira.'_

Lars smiled at the thought, but quickly put his face in check. The other man was clasping his bleeding nose with both hands, still speechless from shock. "What... Why... Who are you?" the man uttered finally. "Regulator Lars Akira. Pleased to make your acquaintance lord Kasparin. I hereby find you guilty of heresy. The punishment for this is death." Lars answered semi-casually. After being caught in the act and having his nose broken, this factual message finished the heir of House Plutarch. The only reply from the man was a stuttering no. Lars was pleased with himself.

The other man's spirit was broken. He could see that Kasparin had at least 50 years over him, but thanks to the rejuvenat treatments, you could only tell by the little details. And Lars didn't doubt that the man's habitat made sure that his reflexes and mental capacities were at a top level. But for all his experience, a decent shock and awe treatment had been enough to tear his defenses down.

 _'For now Akira. Given enough time, he will fall back on his feet. So don't give him that time.'_

Lars' voice took a different tone, as if he was reluctant to share the next bit with Kasparin "However, due to your station and rank, you have of course, following the Book of Penance, article 42, section 6, one chance to forfait this sentence. If you cooperate completely, I will be forced to tone that sentence down." Lars counted on the fact that lord Kasparin wouldn't be an expert on the contents of the Book of Penance. If he was, he would know that there was no section 6 under article 42. And that there were no alleviating circumstances when the crime came down to heresy. But the other man gobbled it up easily enough. "Of course, of course... As you wish, regulator." Lars didn't have to fake, nor hide, the look of disdain on his face.

"Alright, lord Kasparin," he said with a voice dripping of sarcasm, "Tell me about the amulets. I know that you've been selling them to your peers, but no one actually knew _skit_ why they were actually wearing them." Eagerly Kasparin answered. "Those who wear them become part of the cult. They say... They say that a great wave is coming for this sector. A wave that will flood the Imperium. Only the strong will remain standing. Only those worthy of the cult will survive." Lars frowned. "So, how come the men and women we found these on," Lars pointed with his gun at the silver dragon-like symbol around Kasparin's neck, "didn't know anything about this cult? They were of a lesser station. The chasteners took everything they could from them. So they weren't lying."  
Kasparin squirmed, but replied nevertheless. "I've been given the cha... I've been forced to recruit for this cult, but you don't introduce no nobodies to the cult like that."

Lars could see that Kasparin was already trying to form a defense, futile as it might be. "I see, lord. But you've been introduced in the cult, haven't you. Why don't you tell me a bit more about this danger to the sector." Lars followed up. "I don't know regulator. I don't know. I wasn't even close to getting into the inner circle. They kept me out. I haven't..." the other man uttered. The man was stalling and wasting Lars' time. It wasn't too much of a problem since the man had confessed, but he really needed more information.

"Cut the _skräp_ , Kasparin. If you don't know what's threatening the sector, then tell me who does. What's your in on the cult? Who provided you with these trinkets?" Kasparin's eyes darted from left to right, stalling for more time, but Lars was done asking nicely. This time the but of his pistol hit the man on the left temple, knocking the man back against the bed. "Tell me now, Kasparin! Or not even your title will save you!" Lars yelled. "Preston! Ulahn Preston! From House Matsuoto."

Lars stepped back from the bed even as the man before him rolled himself up to a ball, whining and begging for mercy. At his left side he could see how Plutarch house guards entered the room, but he had what he needed. He raised his weapon and slowly put it behind his back. The men weren't aiming their guns at him, so it seemed the Major Domo had snuck off and alerted them, although apparently she has also mentioned his true allegiance. His suspicions were confirmed when the Pater Familias, lord Belfonian, entered the room. He didn't deem his son worth a look and marched straight to Lars.

"Regulator Akira?" he opened the conversation, but Lars didn't see the point of engaging in a long talk.  
"I'll stand by my promise. We have nothing to gain with the collapse of House Plutarch. Your son however has been found guilty of treason to the Emperor. There can be only one solution, but I leave it to you, my lord, to conclude this business." Lars eyed the other man carefully. Lord Belfonian was dressed in simple, but obviously extremely expensive clothes. On his right hand a single, solid gold ring could be seen, the signet ring of House Plutarch, but for the rest, the man didn't care for jewelry. The auburn brown eyes under the thick white eyebrows betrayed a sharp mind, not interested in shallow appearances. It was a man hard to read. "We will take care of this regulator, in an appropriate way." the man replied, his voice not betraying anything about his true feelings.

Lars wondered whether the man was trying to find leeway with Lars' judgement and the old noble was putting him under close scrutiny, trying to find signs of weakness that would undermine his position. It was an adversary that would prove to be too much for Lars... if he couldn't finish this business quickly. So Lars nodded his head and pretended that they were in agreement. He made a quick bow, not nearly deep enough to honour the station of the other man, showing that he considered him an equal. The short hesitation of Belfonian allowed him to sidestep him and make for the exit. "I trust in your decisiveness, lord Belfonian. We will check in with you to learn of your ingenuity."

Although Lars' bid of letting the Pater Familias taking care of the situation himself had been one made out of weakness, the warning he had issued now was anything but. After he would have reported to the judge, the Plutarch family could definitely count on a visit, or at least a follow-up investigation. If lord Belfonian would have decided to leave matters as they were, things would not end well for the House.

Whatever Belfonian would decide on, he didn't seem to question Lars' authority as he could leave the Plutarch estate without hindrance. Dressed in the House uniform Lars made his way to his stash and changed into his Orinocan clothes, making himself ready to return to his ship and to take on the role of an enginarium worker once more.


	38. Chapter 38: Cartel chase

_+++9.919.986.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Unnamed vessel - Captain's quarters+++_

 _'Got you now, little fish.'_

The man leaned back into the comfortable leather arm chair. A little smile played around the corners of his mouth. His patience had paid off at last. He took a little swig of the high grade amasec. Best of the best, although he could only enjoy the taste, not the effects of the alcoholic beverage. The tiny, but extremely effective poison filters grafted to his oesophagus made sure that he wouldn't get intoxicated.

He closed his eyes and played out the rest of his actions in his head. Now that he had a lead on his quarry, the hunt would be intensified. His network could focus its attention and he could go in pursuit. And he would do well to let his peers know just that. His target had shown a remarkable skill of remaining below the auspex. He had speculated with his second in command about an explanation and the most obvious reason for the disappearance of their quarry. But apart from an unlikely induction into the ranks of the Inquisition, he must have gone undercover for another mission. Belloran's team was a busy little unit. And if he would have been taken in by the big I, the master had told him to stay away from it since they had interests with them he didn't want disturbed.

 _'There is always a bigger fish, isn't there?'_

The man grinned as he looked at the tiny scrap of firepaper in his left hand. Their guesses had been correct and there was no one to protect his target. And as the man was undercover, he didn't even have any support to fall back on. It was just a lonely man in a hostile universe.

The man had felt a sting of disappointment at first. Although the prelude to the hunt had taken too much time - some of his fellows were already snapping at his heels - now, it just seemed too easy... too dull.

 _'But it'll make you a bigger fish, Graz. And soon you'll be the biggest of them all.'_

He stood up from the chair, walking to a fine wooden desk, its four delicate legs screwed to the floor of the ship. Pushing a little gold button, one of the small drawers slid open. The man retrieved a small bundle of papers from the drawer and paged through them. He already knew everything that was in this file, but he liked to look upon the pict of the man or woman he was after. He would visualize the face of his victim, the moment he caught up with them. This one would try to be brave. At first. His lineage was pityful. A simple dockworker. No good could come from such things. It was the reason they were always a step ahead of the Law. Not the rank and file of course, but the inner circle of the Cartel. For over two thousand years the Kerviel Cartel had dominated the Askellon sector and they had used the time wisely, training their members for what was to come, investing their ill-gotten gains instead of wasting them on decadence like so many other criminal organisations. No. They were better men. They ruled this sector as much as Juno's nobles or the Ecclesiarchy synod. And he would just as easily take regulator Akira out of the game, as squashing a mindless dungbeetle under his heel.

Magister Graz sat down behind his desk and started writing his orders.


	39. Chapter 39: Willis' investigation

_+++5.923.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Vostroya, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon+++_  
 _+++Brigand III - cargobay+++_

Willis holstered his massive handcannon and looked up. Surrounding him were about 40 enforcers, each and everyone busy with their weapon checks. The cargobay of the lighter was filled with the noise of shotguns being checked, magazines being slit and rebreathers being tested. For the largest part of the group it was their first time in space, but Willis had given them a brief but complete safety speech. And frankly, they had to worry more about what lay ahead than the little trip from Vostroya to their destination.

He checked his chrono. If all was going according to plan, his reconnaissance team would be at the bridge by now. Which meant only five more minutes until they breached. The men at the bridge would have a tough nut to crack. They had gone in as a routine inspection, but they would be taking over command of the bridge at this point. Willis wasn't sure if the captain would cooperate, so they had chosen this course of action. They could always explain themselves later, but if the captain had ill intentions, they would have had a hard time breaching the hull of the Catharina.

"Regulator Willis. The hangarbays of the Catharina are opening. We'll put you down about 90 secs ahead of schedule." the pilot of the Brigand said over the intercom. Willis stood up and activated the on board channel. His words were amplified through the loudhailers that hung all around the cargo deck, easily drowning out the noise of the weapon checks.

"Officers! We'll breach in less than two minutes. Let me remind you of your objectives. First, shut down all the Catharina's hangars. Second, secure all the escape pod decks. Third, we relocate on the bridge to start with the second part of this op. I don't want our target to get away. It's been the first move he's made in three frakking months and I'm not about to waste the opportunity to nick the son of a bitch. Am I making myself clear?!" The Vostroyans answered in a single voice. "ZIR YEZ ZIR!" Willis smiled. "Then may the Emperor smile on us boys. Let's get ready to do His work!"

The regulator made his way to the ramp at the back of the lighter. He gave the men curt nods and short claps on their backs as he passed them. He didn't know all their names, but he respected each and every one of them. Perhaps they weren't all in optimal form, and perhaps they weren't the most intelligent bunch, but what they lacked in those respects, they made up for in sheer enthusiasm. In his time with the Vostroyan enforcers, he had come to appreciate them, with their merits and their flaws. So when the hatch dropped down, he cried out with the men as they made their assault, swinging his power maul as they flailed around wildly with their combat sticks.

 _+++Catharina - bridge+++_

Willis accepted the dataslate of the Vostroyan enforcer, but didn't care to take a look. He just asked the man to report and got the information he needed in a few seconds. Vostroyan reports were overrated after all. The written variant at least.

"So, we've sustained minimal casualties, except at the second portside hangar. All of the escape pods are accounted for and all the hangar bays have been secured before they could launch any other vessels?" Willis summarized. "Korrekt, zir!" the officer with a thick black moustache replied willingly. "Very well, sergeant Mendejev." Willis commended the other man. "What was the reason of the hostilities at the portside hangar?" "Zir. We believ it to be a bunch of zmugglerz, zir. We found a large amount of zlaught and ACDC."

Willis had meant to dismiss it - he didn't believe his quarry would consider throwing in his lot with a bunch of common smugglers; he was far to clever and paranoid for that - but the fact that they were carrying ACDC, a highly addictive and destructive type of designer drugs, was enough to peek his interest. Common smugglers wouldn't have the cash to be hoarding large amounts of the stuff. "Make sure the leader of the smugglers survives it." Willis eyed Mendejev carefully, "He's not dead yet, I hope?" You never could tell with the enthusiasm of the Vostroyans. "No zir. Zuztained a gun zhot wound to the chezt, but he'll make it through. We'll make it zo, zir." the other man replied without a shred of sarcasm. Willis didn't care to speculate about whatever fieldcraft hack they would perform to keep the guy alive, but he was sure that if he wanted to have a word later, he would find the smuggler more than willing to leave his current company.

Willis saluted Mendejev and turned around to face the captain of the Catharina. His recon team had reported that the man had cooperated... under protest. At the time of the report, Willis had been a bit busy with the boarding action to ask for details, but now they had become evident. The bridge itself was without damage, but the captain seemed to have suffered from, perhaps a few, blows to the head, of which a swollen ear and a black eye stood testament of. The big red moustache and the heavy sideburns on his face indicated that the man had Vostroyan roots himself, so Willis guessed that the man would be used to it. A guess that got a first confirmation as soon as the man opened his mouth. Instead of complaining about the treatment, his blood acted up at once.

" _Mudak_. Who dzo you tzhink you are? You tzhink yourzelf tough with your _lyudi_?" With the symbol of the Adeptus Arbites prominently placed on his own carapace armour, Willis concluded that the captain was a true born Vostroyan and that he was boasting to keep some of his dignity intact. "Don't play stupid, captain. Or a fistfight might be the least of your troubles." Willis replied, "Do you have this man aboard?" Willis held out a printout of the latest pict they had of Roman Hazard, the fugitive captain of the _Warrior of the Warp_. He didn't bother mentioning the name as Hazard had shown himself a master in subterfuge. The chances that he would actually have used his own name to get passage on the Catharina were virtually non-existant.

"What dzo you tzhink, _lokh_? Tzhat I have time tzo check each and every pazenger that comez aboard?" the captain answered. The chances that Hazard would have brokered passage with the captain himself were pretty high though. Something as important as this, getting from under the scrutiny of the Arbites, wasn't something the man would leave up to coincedance. "I'm thinking that if I check the ship coffers I'll find twenty thousand reasons why you spoke to this man personally." Willis bit back.

The evidence that Hazard was aboard, was, strictly speaking, all circumstancial. But the amount of clues pointing at this ship was too big to ignore. First, there was the reputation of the Catharina and its captain. This ship and its master had been named in numerous cases of smuggling. But more importantly, the captain's crew was quite talented at it because he had never been caught redhanded before. Second, an informant at a second rank money lender's office had given a tip that 20.000 thrones had been withdrawn from a fishy account, to be transported through various stations to end up in the belly of the Catharina. Third, the auspex team of orbital command had picked up on a faint echo during one of the cargolifts from the Alyevsky spaceport to the Catharina. The augur readouts hadn't been conclusive, but it might have been a smaller cutter that used the backwash of the cargolifter to reach the Catharina. All in all, there was only a slim chance that the captain of the Catharina had been clubbered for naught that night.

The redhaired man stared at Willis, perhaps trying to see if he was bluffing, but Willis gave him a look of indifference, telling him that whatever he would answer, he'd be looking over the ship anyway. "Alright. You're on tzo him. You will find him in my private quarters. That _mudak_ inzisted on it." Willis gave a nod to the lead officer of the recon team and made his way towards the quarters of the officers.

* * *

 _+++5.932.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Vostroya, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon+++_  
 _+++Alyevski spaceport - Enforcers HQ+++_

Roman Hazard was not much to look at. A scrawny man with greyish hair bound together in a loose hanging ponytail. And in an olive green prisoner jumpsuit, he didn't even have his dirty, but chique clothing to fall back on. Still, Willis didn't underestimate the man. He had been alert enough to have noticed the boarding operation and, moreover, it had taken several days to corner the man. Even then, he had made a run for one of the hangar bays where he had nearly escaped. It was only due to quick thinking of one of the Vostroyan enforcers that his flight had been stopped. Ramming an industrial sized crane into a shuttle might do that.

On a table in the corner of the room, Hazard's possessions were spread out. The magazines had been taken from the fine looking bolt pistols and it had only been for Hazard's insight that he was in a loosing battle that no one had been killed by him during his arrest. There was a moneybelt with electrum staves, enough to buy a small palace and some parchments in code, marked with a few unknown seals. The enforcers had looked into the code, but hadn't been able to break them so far.

Willis took a seat across Hazard whose manacles were chained to the table. The man seemed to be at ease, as if he had the right pokir cards for this game. Willis wanted to change that as quickly as possible, but he would at least need the code that was used on the parchment, if nothing else. "So, captain Hazard. It seems like you're a reasonable man. And a smart one at that. How about we make a deal." Willis said. The man across didn't move. At all. Willis continued. "Your chances without a deal... Not so good." But the man before him didn't respond. Willis felt an itch at the back of his spine. Interrogation really wasn't his cup of tea. He'd felt way more at home between the Vostroyans when they were about to storm the hangars than here in this little grey room where he could only rely on his wits and perseverance.

 _'Give me a shock maul any day.'_

Without any indication what the man was thinking, Willis pressed on. "We find you guilty of treason to the Imperium. Do you know the sentence for that?" The man blinked his eyes, but kept his mouth shut. Willis felt lost. In his mind, this conversation would have played out quite differently. Something which must have shown on his face, because the moment Willis answered his own question, the tiniest of smiles appeared around the corners of Hazard's mouth. "Death." A moment later, the smile was gone and Willis was staring at the blank expression of his prisoner. Willis had to restrain himself not to stand up and slap the man across the face. But he'd chosen this course of action and he was committed to it now. If they would have to resort to other ways to convince the prisoner to share intel, he'd leave that to someone else. "So, I feel you're not in the mood for talking, captain Hazard. I'll give you an hour to reconsider."

Willis stepped backwards, nearly knocking over his chair. This tasted like defeat and it made him uncomfortable. He opened his mouth to add something, but thought better of it only a moment later. Which made him look like a fish that was snapping for air. Abruptly he turned on his heels and made his way for the exit, leaving the man alone with the two Vostroyan enforcers that had stood guard over Hazard the entire time.

Willis entered the small room next door instantly, now showing his anger. It was enough for the two observers to shut their mouths. With a snapping motion, he grabbed one of his lho-sticks and lit it up. As the fumes spread through the little room, the three men stared in silence at the green pictscreens. After five minutes or so, one of the men broke the silence. "Not an eazy nut to krack, sir." Willis nodded. The lho had calmed him a bit and although the man's comment was far from helpful, he didn't feel the need to tell him. "Perhapz we need to zend in Igor, zir? When we have a tough nut tzo krack, we alwayz uze Igor, zir." "He'z a veritable nutkracker, zir." the other man confirmed. Willis shook his head. "No, boys. I've given the man an hour to reconsider. We can always bring in officer Igor later." But as the minutes slipped past, Willis was wondering the wisdom of his choice. He continued to stare at the monitor, but he could imagine that the two men beside him were taking him for a fool. There wasn't a chance in the warp that this fragger would take a deal if they waited long enough.

The hour had almost passed when Willis noticed a twitch in the grainy image. It had been nothing more than a tiny hickup of Hazard's left shoulder. It might have been a fluke of the machine spirit of the pictscreen. But when the man slowly turned his head afterwards, Willis got more curious. He ordered one of the operators to play back the tape. He let it play at four times the speed, but soon enough a pattern became clear. Hazard had been twitching a number of times while he was waiting. "Maybe he'z just a twitchy motherfrak, zir?" one of the enforcers offered unhelpfully. "I don't think so. We've been operating on the assumption that the frak is playing it cool because he knows we need him to crack the codes on those documents. What if he's sure he'll be rescued?"  
"Rezcued? In here zir? That seemz unlikely."

But the more Willis stared at the grainy green picture of his quarry - a man he had chased for several months - the more credit he gave the idea. Perhaps he wanted to get caught. "Frak! Seal of the building! No one goes in or out! And lock this floor. Immediately!"The Vostroyan enforcers didn't hesitate for a second. They both cried out "ZIR, YEZ ZIR!" even as one grabbed a vox horn and the other shattered the safety glass of the alarmbutton in the room. Almost instantly a blaring alarm echoed through the facility's loudhailers and Willis rose from his chair. "The frak must have something to locate him with! Follow me!"

He rammed open the door of the interview room and saw a hint of confusion on Hazard's face, but that quickly faded. Willis stepped towards him with three firm steps and grabbed him by the shoulder. Now a look of surprise appeared on the man's face. He yanked at his chains, but the manacles were closed tightly around his wrists. Willis drew his combat knife and the man opened his mouth. "Heeeey!" But Willis cut open his jumpsuit and the man stopped shouting. Willis quickly checked the man's body and sure enough in the left shoulder he could feel something hard and edgy. A small plate or something. Small enough to be a transmitter.

This time the man didn't cry out of surprise, but of pain as Willis planted his knife into the man's flesh, cutting a deep gash towards the foreign object. Hazard kicked and trashed, but the two guards had stepped up and grabbed the man by the neck and stumped it, face first, into the plasteel table. Willis dug in the flesh with his fingers, finding a small metalic, chromed piece of equipment. With a wriggling motion of his knife, he popped it out of the Hazard's flesh, which caused him to scream and curse some more. Willis held the thing up into the light, just as extra troopers stormed in the room, drawn in by the alarm that was still echoing through the halls. Willis held up a small datacard, cleaning it of Hazard's blood with his ruined jumpsuit. He'd have to explain the false alarm to the CO, but at least he had another lead.

* * *

 _+++5.936.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Vostroya, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon+++_  
 _+++Alyevski spaceport - landing platform GH-005+++_

With a brisk pace, Willis walked towards the waiting shuttle. Its jet engines had been ignited and the whining noise made it hard to understand the other man. Plus, the enforcer colonel that was trying to keep up, spoke a particular dialect of the Vostroyan low gothic, which made it all the more difficult to catch the man's drift. As far as Willis could understand, it was a lot of praise and the request to commend his unit with his Judge. The man didn't need to worry. The Vostroyan forces had assisted him admirably during his prolonged stay.

But his mind was elsewhere. The datacard had been one of Hazard's gambles to save himself. The coded scrolls another. The latter would have served as his bargaining chip, but the information was either outdated or false. The datacard had contained his true mission statements and intel from the Kerviel cartel. He had hoped to conceal that information as revealing it would have been a death sentence, although not executed by the Arbites.

"Thank you for your praise, colonel! I'll be sure to carry the word of your achievements to judge Belloran in return! You and your men deserve as much!" Willis yelled over the engine noise, "You just make sure you ship out Hazard as quickly as possible. The judge will want to interrogate him as well and dead men don't speak."

The other man laughed and clapped him on the back. Willis gave a curt salute to the honour guard he passed on his way to the stairs leading to the personnel compartment of the shuttle.

Leaving Hazard in the Vostroyans' custody was a bit of a gamble, but with his knowledge of the contents of the datacard, it hadn't been a tough choice. Apart from Hazard's mission statements, which effectively marked him as the transporter of the virus bombs of the _Menapi Volantis_ , the card contained a lot of information on contracts that were written out by the cartel. Apparently, the cartel worked with a wide network of freelancers, offering jobs to the highest bidder. Even Hazard, a captain and independent shipowner, hadn't been officially part of the cartel. The jobs on the card varied wildly, both in difficulty as in the degree of illegality. Some of the jobs were just legal, such as observing the output of a particular Mechanicus plant, but other jobs were quite the contrary, ranging from sabotage, over assassination, to high treason.

Coming at the bottom of the steps, Willis extended his hand and got a firm handshake from the colonel. They exchanged salutes and Willis had to scream at the top of his lungs to make himself comprehensible. "I put my faith and trust in you, colonel! The Emperor protects!" The other man nodded and turned around, while Willis started climbing the stairs. With the colonel off his tail, Willis actually ran up the stairs. He didn't want to lose a single second. He needed to get to Desoleum as soon as possible. One of the contracts on the card had been simple: "Find and locate Adeptus Arbites regulator Lars Akira. Drop all information at the lead doorman of the Verrazi spire palace on Desoleum." Willis didn't care to speculate what they would do with that information, but he sure as warp would be there to find out.


	40. Chapter 40: The fate of Cylin-6

_+++9.945.986.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Gaelian Star - lower enginarium+++_

"Worker 554, lower enginarium section. Report on location of worker 245, lower enginarium section." a metallic voice droned in Lars' ear. He looked up from his welding station and stared right in the face of technographer Cylin-6. The techpriest wasn't exactly a beauty and it was only because she had announced her arrival with a vocal request that Lars didn't recoil when he laid his eyes on the woman. Like the workers of the lower enginarium, the techpriests here were mostly considered as failures, or were being punished for non-standard behaviour on their previous work post. Cylin-6 had only received very few gifts of the Omnissiah, her face was still entirely human except for the vox box at her throat. "Ugh.. Uhm... worker 245. Designation Magnus." Cylin-6 followed up, clearly not satisfied by the tardive response of Lars. She made some sort of flapping motion with her hands, perhaps trying to impress her haste on Lars. Lars closed the promethium line to his welding apparatus and as the flame was doused, he pointed at the workshed where the crew kept their tools and spare parts. As he opened his mouth to formulate an answer, he could see that the techpriest had already dismissed him and urged him to go back to work with an angry blurt of binary. Lars shrugged and returned to his duties. It wasn't the first time the woman had come down here to find Magnus and it wouldn't be the last time. Lars restored the promethium flow and continued his work.

Five minutes later, Lars was looking at the repairs he made to an emergency valve when he was rudely disturbed. The door of the workshed was almost busted from its hinges when the technographer stormed out of the hall. "As I said, this is not acceptable under the ship's protocols 5.33.1!" Only a second later, Cylin-6 was followed out of the shed by the foreman and three of his fellow workers. "But Cylin! Wait!" Magnus cried out aggresively. The techpriest didn't break her stride and marched at full speed towards the elevator that led back to the upper enginarium. She answered Magnus with a short burst of binary, but translated it quickly. "Your protest is noted, but your sanction has already been determined." Lars frowned and started to approach the techpriest. Her path would lead her right next to his work station and from the look on Magnus' face, something was seriously wrong. Aboard the _Gaelian Star_ , a sanction was always bad news. "You don't understand. We should talk about this!" Magnus yelled and his voice now sounded desperate. "Negative! Lobotization and re-implementation as a class II servitor. That will be your faith, 245!" Cylin-6 bursted out, increasing her pace as she turned towards the metal stairs leading towards the elevator cage.

Lars looked from the techpriest to Magnus and back. In a spur of the moment, Lars grabbed the promethium tank and stepped into the path of the technographer. Her eyes betrayed her surprise. It only got worse for her as he swung the tank with all his might against the right side of her head. She didn't even have the chance to change her expression and with a sad peep, coming from the mangled vox box, the woman slumped against the oily deck. "Lars! What the frak did you do?!" Magnus cried out. Lars turned to his foreman and saw pure panic on the man's face. The three workers he had in tow, two grunts, Fredrik and Olaf, and one welder named Annicka, shared his expression and were too shocked to even comment. Lars put down the promethium tank and grabbed the body of Cylin by the shoulders. "Helping my mates out of trouble. I'll be damned before I stand by to see how that techbitch would _skit_ all over this crew. Now grab her feet and move her to the stairs. She slipped and fell. No wonder with all that oil leakage coming from above. They really should do something about that."

Magnus didn't budge, but Annicka seemed to come to her senses and ran towards Lars to help him move the body. In the meanwhile, Lars kept his head down. His actions had come almost as a reflex. Magnus was his main lead and he needed the man alive, but now, he started to realize just what he had done. The lie had come easily, but now, while Magnus was coming to his senses, Lars could feel his eyes burning on him. Instead of waiting for his inevitable questions, Lars went on the offensive. "You need to call it in, Magnus. If she would suffer from an accident, it would be falling on you to contact the coggies." Still, the foreman didn't lift a finger. Lars grabbed Cylin's head and smashed the right side into one of the lower stairs. Next, he grabbed a small can of machine oil and sprayed some of it at the top of the stairs and on the late technographer's feet. When he looked up, Magnus was still standing still, Fredrik and Olaf looking at him for orders.

Lars ran towards the place where he had struck down the techrpriest, grabbed a piece of cloth and started rubbing the floor, cleaning up the blood and synaptic fluids that had spilled from Cylin's broken skull. "I mean it, Magnus. Call it in! You need to call it in. It's the only way it'll work. If they have to come looking for her, we're _skältal_." Lars continued to frot frantically at the wet spot. Finally Magnus started to move. First, he looked at Olaf and pointed at the shed. Next, he made Fredrik run for his vox handheld so he could contact the upper floors. As the two men ran off, Magnus stared at Lars. Olaf returned with the dirty transmitter and Magnus opened the channel. "Hello command... This is worker 245, lower enginarium section... We... There has been an accident. Code Tango. You need to send someone down here." All the while, the foreman kept looking at Lars.

* * *

 _+++9.951.986.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Gaelian Star - lower enginarium+++_

Two days had passed since the incident. Lars had feared for an extensive investigation. If he would have been sent down here to look into the death of Cylin-6, he would definitely have picked up on the mismatch between her headwound and the angle she was found in. But the senior technowright had simply instructed his company of servitors to clean up the mess and had ordered two men of the crew to bring the remains to the upper enginarium where the "undamaged augmentations would be recovered and put to work for the glory of the Omnissiah". Looking at it now, Lars realized that Cylin-6 really had been an expandable asset for the Mechanicus crew aboard the _Star_.

He had also feared that Magnus would act differently. So Lars hadn't spoken a word about what happened to his fellow crew members and he definitely hadn't been poking his nose in Magnus' business. The arbite suspected that the unfortunate technographer had run into one of Magnus' shady deals, possibly the same thing Lars was looking into. But he knew better than to rattle his cage. Which didn't mean he hadn't kept a close eye on the foreman.

Right after the killing, Magnus had seemed distraught, not on his game. The less disciplined part of the crew had taken advantage of it, until one of the greasemonkeys had almost caused a critical failure on one of the steam dispersion vents. The new incident had made Magnus snap to it and everybody had understood that things were back to normal. Except for the intense scrutiny Lars had found himself under. During his three workshifts after the murder, he had caught Magnus regularly looking over his shoulder or keeping an eye on him from a distance. Lars had done his best to ignore the extra attention, but as he was doing the same, their looks had crossed quite a few times.

"Christianson! A word!" Magnus shouted over the noise of the circle saw, Lars was using to cut away a piece of broken pipe. Lars shut off the saw and lifted his broken protective goggles. The workers of the lower enginarium always were the last to see their damaged equipment replaced, especially if the equipment was only meant to guarantee the safety of the workers themselves. "Sure chief." Lars tried to keep his voice even, "You got a new job for me?" Magnus stared at him and the silence dragged on. Lars didn't avert his gaze, but used the time to wipe clean the sweat of his brow. "You're a cold motherfrak, aren't you Christianson?" Magnus said. "Why chief? It's quite simple. You're the boss, you call the shots. You ask me something, I do it." Lars replied. The other man grabbed a piece of the cut off pipe and sat down on it.

"Take a seat, Lars." he said and he offered the arbite a lho-stick. Lars accepted it, but didn't start asking questions. "You're one of those guys with a code, aren't you?" Magnus continued, "You're one of those guys that knows the value of loyalty." Lars slowly nodded, indicating that he was listening, although he didn't answer. So Magnus broke the silence again. "And you're a guy that doesn't ask questions. That's a rare trait in a man, you know. Loyal, quiet and not in the least bit curious." The foreman fell silent once more, trying to provoke a reaction from the man across, but Lars didn't bite. After a few seconds, Magnus laughed wholeheartedly. "Even now, you're a stony son of a bitch. Man! What is it friend? Do I have to spell it out for you?" Now Lars spoke up, but instead of asking to get in on his little scheme, which would betray the fact that he knew about the scheme, he avoided the implied offer. "It was... It just seemed the right thing to do, you know?" Lars faked hesitation. Now was the time to get inside Magnus' inner circle of trust. "And to be honest... Look. I'm not happy that I just killed someone, and it's not something I planned on. But you're the main reason we're all still alive down here." Lars hoped his words weren't too much. But, as far as he could tell, Magnus seemed reassured and ready to buy into the idea that Lars had done it, just to protect himself. So Lars took a bit of a gamble as he continued.

"You're also our best chance of getting out of this _skräp_ , you know. If there should ever be an accident on the higher levels, I'm sure that your skills as a foreman would be recognized. And you might get some of us a transfer out of this place. We both know that we've been lucky to go so long without a serious accident." Although Lars didn't remotely believe the techpriests would ever dig up Magnus from this level - why change a functioning system - or that Magnus would actually believe such things himself, the true objective here was to make sure Magnus got the message that Lars was looking for a way out. A greedy look flashed over Magnus' face and was a clear signal that Lars' gamble would pay off. "Do you really believe that Christianson? You think the coggies think their operations through on that level? You should stop fooling yourself. We'll never get out of this _skräp_ if we continue to put our trust in the coggies. Don't you see?"

Lars acted disappointed. He threw down his gaze and took his head in both hands. He hoped he gave the impression of an easy victim to be influenced. Magnus bit. "We need to take hold of our fate, Lars. If you want to get out of this mess, you'll need to do it yourself. And you'll need an _ända_ load of cash to make it work." Lars looked up. "What are you talking about, chief?" he said, "With our pay, we'll never get there. And don't tell me we should hit the pits. No one I know has ever come back with more money by gambling than he left with." The other man gave him a conspirational grin. "No, Lars. We're not going to bet or pay. We just take on a second job. Let me show you."

Magnus rose from his improvised chair. Lars knew he had won. But he hid his victory behind a look of hesitation and restraint. Magnus beckoned him once more to stand up, so Lars followed the man to the shed. Once inside, Magnus carefully closed the door. They hadn't come round to properly fixing it after Cylin-6 had slammed it out of the hinges. A trio of weak lumen bulbs shed their light on the, for the most part dirty and rusty, toolboxes, but from under a decommissioned workbench, Magnus retrieved a flight case. This one wasn't the least bit dirty, nor were there any traces of oxidation on it. A simple but impressively sturdy lock made sure that only those who knew the code would be able to open it. Clearly, it had no business being aboard the _Gaelian Star_ , or at least not in the bowels of the ship.

With a soft click, the coffer was opened and Magnus took something out of the box. He held up one of the trinkets Lars had come to expect. "This, my friend." he said, "This will get us off the ship." Lars faked a look of incomprehension. "You mean to sell it? I'm no jeweler, but that seems like crude craftmanship, Magnus. Besides, it's not like we would have a lot of buyers here." Magnus looked up at him with a mean smile. "Loyal to a fault, but no imagination eh? There is more to this than just its looks. Here, take it, _kamrat_." Magnus tugged at the collar of his jumpsuit to reveal another one of the hangers dangling around his neck. Lars didn't feel quite at ease with the trinkets, but accepted the one Magnus held out for him. Hesitating, he hung the thing around his neck. Although the chances that the thing itself would corrupt him were slim, he didn't feel confident at all.

The metal chain felt cold to his skin and the hanger was heavier than he had expected. But apart from that, he noticed nothing strange. "So, if we're not going to sell these things, how do you expect us to make money with this?" Lars asked, looking back at Magnus that was closing the case and stashing it back in its hiding place. Magnus got up and put his hand on Lars' shoulder. "We're getting paid to recruit. And to carry messages all across this sector. I don't think we'll be staying much longer aboard the _Star_. Our next stop will bring us to our master. He's a fancy gentleman, but he is also one of us. Understands us grunts. Sees our potential. Yes, the day I met with Ulahn Preston was a fine day indeed." With a soft push, he turned Lars around and together they walked out of the shed. "And as soon as we make it off board, you'll meet him too. I'm sure he'll like you."


	41. Chapter 41: Arthur

_+++5.960.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Nixus Secund, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Spirus Blanca - Federation House+++_

Nixus Secund didn't have a lot of military strategic value, nor did it have a sprawling industry. It wasn't blessed with monumental hives where labour would be cheap or a Guard regiment could easily recruit. The world mostly consisted of cold rocky desert and the soil wasn't rich with minerals. In fact, the only blessing it had, was that thanks to an astrometric fluke, it had a strange gravitywell which allowed for the construction of space elevators. Which in turn made loading and unloading of ships an extremely efficient operation. Nixus Secund also lay at the beginning of a series of smaller systems rimwards and each and every one of those counted on it to organize shipping in this part of the sector. This all accounted for a high level of interplanetary traffic and accompanying it, a high concentration of Administratum clerks that tried to organize it.

But Arthur Belloran wasn't there to look into their books. He was on a diplomatic mission, trying to create unity between the rival trader's houses that were based at Nixus II. At least, that was the official reason for his presence. He would have to put up a show for these cheapskates and traffickers, but he would mostly dump them on Horrigan.

 _'After all, it was his fault we chose this cover for working on this boring planet.'_

They had had to invent some sort of official title for Frank. Otherwise the Nixus moneygrubbers wouldn't have settled for his company instead of seeing the judge himself. But he had other plans, far more interesting than sitting down in a conference hall listening to the endless complaints about the pirates and how the Navy and the SDF should secure the shipping routes. As soon as possible - and within limits of basic politeness - Arthur would leave his company and start digging for something else. Something far more dangerous than lone pirates that occasionally scored a hit on a trader. It was still a diplomatic mission, but in his mind, Belloran had decided that - in spite of Frank's cautioning words - it would take the form of hostile negotiations.

Arthur closed the secured datapad he was carrying. The metal casing had been improved with wards and a fickle machine spirit that might just as well deny you access as electrocute you if you didn't present it with the proper codes. He had been reading the latest reports of regulators Akira and Willis. Although they were now at least two months old - you never could be sure with time when the Warp was involved - they still contained news. News that only strengthened his conviction that something was seriously rotten in the sector. Akira's report confirmed that smuggling was still on the rise. Willis' report, although it mentioned that he still hadn't caught up with the captain of the _Warrior of the Warp_ , also gave him a clue. The fact that the man that would have shipped off the virus bombs of the _Menapi_ , remained out of the clutches of the Arbites, meant that the adversary was well organized and had sufficient means to mislead them. Arthur had enough trust in Willis that any other target would have been apprehended by now. The man was a bit straightforward, but once pointed in the right direction, he was thorough and persistant.

And if he had to go by their reports, it meant that the problem he was about to tackle was as serious as he had thought. He had discussed it with arbitrator Mahara when she had checked in last month and she had agreed: although the piracy was hurting them and the destabilization of the Navy was a most serious concern, the smuggling in Askellon would have to be their top priority. It wasn't that it had grown that much, but it had evolved into something dangerous. It wasn't just about shipping drugs anymore - which was a problem of course, but not one that would cripple a sector - but more insidious or straight out dangerous stuff. The virus bombs had been one such thing. The strange necklaces another. And Frank had dug up another five cases that deserved their attention, that showed the same qualities: uncommon smuggleware, deep under the radar, a lot of high end accomplices.

The judge saw Frank standing by the double doors that would grant him access to the main seminar room of the Federation House of the Nixus traders. The man looked up unsurprised from his own slate.

"Running late again, your Honour? Did you stumble over a card game by any chance?" Frank welcomed him. Arthur smiled at the friendly banter. "Not at all, old chap. I concede that I looked for an opportunity to play, but as I told you before, this appalingly calm planet has nothing of the sorts to offer." Arthur said, "Let's get this over with, shall we?" Frank returned the smile and shook his head. "Don't cock it up, Arthur. If you want any chance at the real thing, you'll have to at least make credible that you'll take appointments with these men." he warned. Arthur coughed softly. "You know, I never cock it up Frank. Show some respect, damn you!" He smiled. Frank didn't. "Oh, don't be so serious, my mate. You can trust in me." Frank nodded and opened the door to the conference room and Arthur could hear him whisper. "I know you too well to trust you like that."

Arthur's smile grew bigger, but he soon made a more serious face as he made the intimidating entrance the audience expected of him. He didn't even bother to sit down or go stand behind the voxcapter on the podium. Without breaking a sweat, he charmed the present businessmen and traders, by giving them credit they didn't earn and promising his full support when it came to "clobbering the pirate filth". But he was careful enough not to mention how the whole operation would proceed. Instead he called Frank to the fore, indicating that "supreme commodore Horrigan" had his complete trust and was "most skillful in dealing with these blasted scalliwags". Without further notice, he gave a short bow to the audience and made his way out, mouthing to Frank that "he'd been polite at least". Horrigan was chin deep in questions of the traders so couldn't actually reply. With a lively pace Arthur walked through the doors.

The judge checked the chrono built in his black multicompass which was attached to his wrist like some sort of bracer. If he was quick, he might still be able to take his first contact in the pincers. Smiling he made his way to his personal Rhino - Dirty Daisy - which was parked outside. The judge could look forwards to his favourite activity at last: crushing skulls.

* * *

 _+++5.980.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Desoleum, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Unnamed vessel - Captain's quarters+++_

Magister Graz sat in one of the comfortable Huran leather seats. A few dozen of the rare animals had died for this fauteuil, which made it a hundred times more expensive than regular grox leather furniture, but Graz wouldn't dare to host a meeting with the man across in anything less. His second in command, unrecognizable for his guest behind her golden mask with built in sensor array, had just poured them an extremely rare brand of dryké as Graz knew his guest preferred this beverage to the more common amasec.

Both men eyed each other, trying to determine from their posture and facial expression how this meeting would go down. Graz knew that he would have to be extremely careful. The other man, dressed in a black velvet tail-coat, a silk orange dress shirt and matching black pants, peered from under his white powdered wig at the Cartel magister, gently rubbing the head of an extremely fine walking stick, festooned with large tourmaline stones at the top. After two minutes in which the silence was only broken by the sound of the little swigs of the crystal glasses, Graz stood up, giving the most subtle of nods to his subordinate which instantly left the room via a side door. The magister turned back to his guest and made a polite but discrete bow. Only the tiniest of smiles appeared on the other man's face, neatly covered under the white and tangerine maquillage and Graz knew that the other man had strengthened his position by manoeuvring his second out of the room. Graz hoped that it would prove to be a phyrric victory as now he opened the debate about the aid of the Desoleum Lordship before him to apprehend and murder regulator Lars Akira.

After two hours of discussion, specked with subtle menaces, sweet promises and the occasional stare down, Magister Graz felt like he had got what he had come for. He refilled his guest's crystal tumbler for the fourth time with the exquisite dryké and wondered whether the man had installed an internal purifier too. Underneath the black tail-coat was a skinny man and Graz could hardly believe that the man would be able to withstand the effects of the dryké that was spiked with two minor toxins to befuddle the mind. Perhaps that was why he had paid such a steep price to assure himself of the other man's resources. The board wouldn't be too impressed with him now that he had brokered this deal, but they would when he'd get results.

With a silent signal, the Magister summoned his subordinate and bid the other man farewell.

 _'A worthy and cunning adversary. But in the end another prey to hunt. Quite the difference of the primary target.'_

He was sure that the Desoleum noble would deal with the annoying arbite. The unfortunate accident of lord Kasparin on Orinoca after regulator Akira's visit had been the beginning of his downfall. The fact that the man had rushed his stay on Orinoca had helped with the hunt. Soon they had found out that the destination of the _Gaelian Star_ , Akira's ship, had been Desoleum. The slow tradevessel was no match for the speed of Graz' ship and he had enough time to prepare himself for the arrival of his target. Which meant he had been able to plan for limited direct interference and visibility of the Cartel. He would order departure soon. Just after he was sure that his plan to save face with the board would be well underway.

Ten minutes later he laid eyes on the golden mask of Elisabeth. Under her black clothes one could hardly determine that she was in fact a woman and the voice destorter built in the mask did all that was necessary to hide this secret. Elisabeth Von Munich was his oldest asset and had been with him from child birth. She understood him without words. A simple look was enough for her to know what to do. And so, without asking a question or giving an order, she answered him.

"Operatives H6 and H8 are in play. His base of operations has been compromised. Extraction will be provided by assets D12 to 16. They'll get an activation code after the attack on the primary target has been executed." The mask she wore didn't betray her emotions, but Graz wasn't particularly interested in those anyway. "Alright," said the magister, "So, what about our insurance?" "Operatives H6 and H8 have been provided with killcaps and their hypnotraining has been refreshed just before deployment. There is only success or death for these men." Elisabeth replied, "As for the extraction team. We've got another H-class asset in play that has them in his crosshairs."

Graz raised his eyebrows. He wasn't concerned about H6 and H8. The toxins within their suicide pills wouldn't only kill them, but they would also release a high power acid that would consume most of their bodies, leaving little to no evidence to follow up upon. And the hypnotraining had been one of the Kerviel Cartel's strongpoints. The last two centuries not a single case of disobedience had been reported. But the lack of callsignal for the third H-class asset made him wonder. Elisabeth picked up on it and didn't skip a beat. "She hasn't been assigned a formal code yet. This will be her first assignment on this threat level, to introduce her to this level." The magister lowered his eyebrows but his left eye twitched. Just once. But Elisabeth had picked up on that too. "I'll make sure that she is accompanied. We'll leave nothing to chance."

Reassured the magister sat back down and poured himself an amasec. Dryké wasn't his drink. Once more Elisabeth read his mind and left the room in silence.


	42. Chapter 42: Desoleum

_+++5.997.986.M41+++_  
 _+++Desoleum, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Jarvis, Hylun Arena+++_

Lars followed Magnus' lead. At his side Annicka did her best to keep up, nervously checking every passage and alcove they crossed. From her behaviour it was clear that she felt out of place. Since the incident with the technographer, Lars had talked a lot with the woman - who seemed to be the most forthcoming of the bunch - and he had learned that she was voidborn. And if they made port, she rarely got of board. At his back, Fredrik and Olaf formed the rearguard. The two grunts tried their best to look intimidating, but failed miserably as they were themselves impressed by some of the men and women they crossed. Lars could say that he felt the same.

After they had made planetfall, Magnus had lead them to the lower levels of hive Jarvis, straight to some sort of motel where he had gotten them three rooms: one for Fredrik and Olaf, one for Annicka and finally one for Lars and himself. The next day, he had woken them up with the message that they had been summoned. Lars had been surprised that the man knew his way around the hive, as he hadn't accepted the offer of a guide to navigate the city. A short walk to the metrosystem and two switch-overs later, they had emerged on a plaza that bordered on a strange, unfamiliar building. The styling was weird and the building material, some sort of sludge that had petrified, seemed extremely strong, but not made by human hands. Magnus had explained that it was one of the many Xeno leftovers and that it now served as a gladiator pit. With success it seemed, because the plaza was sprawling with enthusiast civilians trying to make their way inside. Magnus had lead them to a another, more orthodox imperial building that stood in one of the corners of the plaza. Once inside, it appeared to be a large tavern, but soon it became clear that it also served as a service entry to the Hylun Arena. Ten minutes later they had been walking the basement corridors of the arena.

As they continued onwards, they passed all kinds of gladiators left and right. Lars saw a man that didn't carry a single piece of armour and would have been naked if not for a dirty loincloth, but the man seemed at ease with two thin scimitars which he used deftly to dispatch of a practice servitor. They passed two brawling Ogryns, equipped with massive, although luckily, deactivated power fists. A woman clad in a silver coloured armoured bodyglove was training a pack of three vicious, sixlegged, doglike creatures. And as they marched onwards they saw a dozen more freakish figures making themselves ready to test their mettle in the arena.

Lars wondered if they were just heading to some good seats, when Magnus stopped and pointed at Annicka. "We've arrived. You're coming with me. You three stay out here and keep your eyes open." Fredrik and Olaf accepted the order without questions asked and although Lars had hoped to be included in the meeting, he only gave a nod of agreement and went to find a good vantage point. He knew better than to push for his presence. Aboard the _Star_ he had tried gently to uncover more about Ulahn Preston, but after showing the case with the hangers, Magnus hadn't shared any more information. Lars climbed up some sort of crack in the stone wall of the arena to get a better view. Even as the fights in the arena outside begun - Lars could hear the chearing, cursing and stamping of the thousands of spectators echoing through the hallways - the crowd in the catacombs didn't thin out.

Half an hour later, the doors of Preston's cell were still closed. Fredrik and Olaf had largely abandoned their caution and had found a slit through which they could peer into the arena. Lars' butt hurt from the hard surface and his calves were cramped due to the effort to keep himself lodged in the crack of the wall. He was just about to question his decision to pick this spot when he noticed a trio of men in smooth, black bodygloves. Lots of gladiators were boasting or busy with practice training, making for a rough, rowdy ambience and although the three men were armed, they didn't fit in with the crowd. They were far too focused and fixated on their objective, plowing their way through the crowd. Lars looked onwards to see what might be their destination and was surprised to see another two men with the same attire. When Lars looked back to the other trio, their eyes crossed and Lars felt an icy shiver running across his spine.

 _'They are here for your party, Akira.'_

Lars jumped down and called out to Fredrik and Olaf, but his voice didn't carry far enough over the cacophony of the gladiators and the background wash of the crowd outside. Landing on the floor, Lars felt the cramp in his legs and cursed. He wasn't armed and he had seen that the men coming in were carrying pistols. Calling out once more to Fredrik and Olaf, Lars started to work his way to the double doors of Preston's room. But it was too late already. The two men reached his fellow enginarium workers and Lars saw the flash of a blade in the dim light of the catacombs. The arm of the man went back up into the air and came down once more, but with all the gladiators practicing their combat moves, nobody seemed to notice. Lars threw a look over his shoulder to see where the other three men were, but they were nowhere to be seen. With a sense of desperation Lars started pushing aside men and women alike to get to the doors Magnus and Annicka were behind. Suddenly shouting and screaming erupted from the place where Fredrik and Olaf had been stabbed, but over his right shoulder Lars could just make out a voice over the ruckus. "There's the frakker. Do it!"

Lars spun around on his heels, just in time to see how a compact needle pistol was aimed at his torso by one of the men in black. The man pulled the trigger just as a gigantic ogryn stepped in the line of fire. The giant bellowed only a second later, pulling at the small dart that was stuck in his left upper arm.

"Frak! Get him!" From his left side, another one of the men stepped in sight, jabbing at Lars with a mono combat knife. In the blink of an eye Lars grabbed the man by the wrist and stepped backwards, his back to the Ogryn, pulling the other man forwards and sending him straight into a burly men with some sort of primitive stone axe. The fight became more chaotic by the second. The Ogryn seemed to have a firm grasp on whoever it was that had attacked him and started moving forwards mowing away bystanders to get at the man with the needle pistol. The axewielder wasn't too impressed with the knife that had grated him over the ribs and swung his weapon wildly. Lars' eyes darted from left to right trying to pinpoint the third man, but around him the crowd was dispersing. An enraged Ogryn wasn't really something you wanted to stay near to. Within seconds Lars stood in an empty circle with people running away in all directions. Lars crouched to pick up a golden falchion. It wasn't his first choice, but there weren't a lot of autopistols to be found here. In a fraction of a second he saw the third man in the reflection of the broad sword. Lars swirled around a second time and tried to catch the man with this wild attack. The other man anticipated the blow and easily sidestepped the crude attack, only to step in Lars' defenses while raising a shock maul. Lars couldn't help but smile and let go of the opulent sword. Moving with the motion of the other man, he managed to avoid getting hit by the crackling weapon and as the man swung the weapon back to take another shot, Lars planted his left foot in the other man's crotch and even though the man wore an armoured bodyglove, the effects were clear. As the man fell to his knees, Lars picked up the maul and gave him a dry blow to the head, leaving a black scorchmark on the man's temple even as he slumped to the floor, spasming softly. The other two men were still occupied with their opponents and the crowd had dispersed even further, leaving a clear route to Preston's cell.

Lars started running but suddenly remembered the two other men. He dodged to the left. Just in time it seemed as a shuriken flew by and just barely missed his neck. Without the crowd, Lars was out of cover and out of options. Hoping that his luck would hold, Lars barreled towards the two men that stood near his target. At that point, one of the doors opened and Annicka stepped outside. Distracted, the man with the shurikens missed Lars again. Lars roared, but the other man rammed a telescopic club in Annicka's stomach. The woman doubled over and just as she would receive a finishing blow, Magnus kicked open the other door and opened fire with an old stub revolver. The thrower left the new problem to his fellow and threw another one of the little stars towards the arbite. Lars dodged this last one too, but fell to the floor, skidding towards the man. In a final effort, Lars slammed the power maul against the man's right leg. It wasn't a forceful blow, but the powerfield did the work. Yammering the man fell down and Lars repeated his attack twice. From behind him a loud slamming noise warned him that all was not over yet. As he clambered back up, he saw how the ogre had fallen to the ground and how a pink foam bubbled up from the wide mouth. Right before him, the man with the club managed to knock Magnus' arm wide as he fired off another shot. Annicka cried out as the bullet went into her belly. But Lars had other things to worry about. The thug with the needle pistol jumped over the Ogryn's thrashing body and aimed straight at the regulator. Lars thought he had bought it when suddenly the man's chest exploded and tumbled back over the Ogryn's body. From Preston's cell an impressively obese man stepped out, carrying a smoking, ragged looking shotgun. Lars turned back towards his closest enemy, and was rewarded with blood splattering his face as Magnus unloaded his last two rounds in the face of the other man. But before they could take another breath, Magnus doubled over as well. The butt of a combat knife stuck out of his side. The booming noise of the shotgun echoed once more against the walls of the catacombs, but when Lars looked back, the last man of the thugs had already disappeared in the fleeing crowd.

Lars looked up at what he supposed was Preston Ulahn and then back down towards Magnus. A thin stream of blood ran over his chin and he was desperately trying to get up. Lars kneeled down and slid a hand under Magnus' head, supporting him and allowing him to swallow back the blood. The foreman's eyes searched for Lars's but the arbite could see that the other man's life was seeping away. The once compelling and vigorous voice had now made place for a cracked whisper. "Lars. Ugh... You make sure... You make sure you get out... We've fought too hard... rgh... too hard to... ugh, ugh, ugh... lose now... You... get... out..."

For a moment Lars forgot the man was an enemy of the Imperium. A traitor that had spread heresy all over the sector. For a moment Lars was a simple man once more. A man that had lived under the harsh rule of the Adeptus Mechanicus. A man that had known that he would have to work as a slave for the rest of his days. Like the dead man in his arms and his brothers and sister that were laying on the cold stone in their own blood.


	43. Chapter 43: Facing Ulahn Preston

_+++5.009.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Desoleum, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Jarvis, Habblock Mortan-655+++_

Lars felt clean for the first time in months. He found a run-of-the-mill bodyglove in his size and a pair of used heavy duty boots on the chair next to the showercell. But although he had washed off all the blood, sweat and dirt from his body, inside, he still felt strangely downhearted, even though he knew that the death of Magnus and the rest of the crew was only a slight mishap. Perhaps it might even be a breakthrough as Preston had dragged him out of the arena to this habunit. At least, that was the last thing he remembered. Coming at this appartment and being shown a bed by the man.

He put on the clothes and walked into the other room of the tiny appartment. Wedged on the standard brown chair, sat Ulahn Preston. Lars was surprised that the chair could hold his massive body. He had noticed that Preston wasn't very tall, but he easily weighed 300 pounds, which was a bit of an exception for hivers as food was always scarce. But then Lars remembered that Preston was connected with the noble houses. In his soiled white tanktop and stained pants, that made even less sense though.

Lars approached the man to see what he was doing at the little table that was set against the flakboard wall. Looking over his massive shoulder, Lars saw a little cogitator station. The thing had a dozen thin wires coming out of the side that disappeared in a small tube protruding from the wall. As he inspected the thing, he was amazed, but the feeling was numbed by his general mood. The little cogitator unit was at least 400 years old and had been imported from outside the sector. You could tell by the high quality pictscreen and the craftmanship of the delicate bronze buttons on the keyboard. Lars should have been equally impressed by the speed Preston was manipulating the apparatus. His fat saucagelike fingers flew over the buttons and initiated line after line of commands. But again, Lars couldn't be bothered.

"Eat something. Can't use you starving." Preston said, without looking up. Lars looked around and saw a pack of stale yalk biscuits laying on the counter of the small kitchen. Next to it stood a sixpack of nutridrink, a beverage that contained most of the necessary energy to survive a day in the underhive, but also tasted like grox milk gone sour. Again, Lars couldn't be bothered, stuffing one of the biscuits in his mouth and washing it away with a mouthful of the foul nutri. In the meanwhile, Preston continued his work, seemingly oblivious of Lars' presence.

Lars wandered through the hab unit. There was absolutely nothing to give away anything about the resident, and by comparing the state of the appartment to the state of Preston's clothes, Lars concluded that the man wasn't actually living here. It probably served as a hideout. Lars walked towards the single window of the hab and grabbed the curtains to open them.

"Don't." came Ulahn's command. Lars stopped and looked back. Preston was still busy with the cogitator, not looking up from his work. "You're a creature of habit, Lars Christiansson." Meanwhile, the rattling sound of the bronze buttons of the keyboard being slammed, continued. Lars had a befuddled look on his face and expected Preston to continue, but the man's eyes remained glued to the pictscreen and he remained silent. Lars let go of the curtains. A feeling of unease crept up, which tore through his gloomy mood. The arbite shook his head to clear it. He took a fresh look at the room: the cogitator, the imposing figure of Preston, the clean white kitchen... Suddenly he noticed that a videofeed ran on the pictscreen. Stepping closer, he could see himself, fighting in the catacombs under the arena. "What?... What are you doing?" Lars uttered. "Haven't seen yourself in action, officer?" Preston replied. Lars wanted to answer, but he snapped his mouth shut.

 _'Officer?'_

"What do you mean 'officer'?" Lars begun his denial. "Very good, my friend. Very good. You're quite alert." Preston said as he turned around on the chair, making it squeek as if it would give out on him any second, "but your protest is quite pointless. Why don't you spare us some trouble." Lars evaluated his chances. Preston seemed unarmed and not in shape to say the least. "Performing a risk analysis. Trying to discern my possibilities in a fight? You might as well admit that you've been groomed as a lawman, Christiansson. But that's not really your name is it?" Lars felt the floor falling from under his feet. The man seemed to be able to predict his every thought and his every movement. Worse, he seemed to look straight through his cover.

 _'Careful, he might still be bluffing, Akira.'_

Preston sighed. He picked up a pack of lho-sticks and lit one up. Taking a deep breath, inhaling the faint blue smoke, he looked back at Lars. "I would offer you one, if you would smoke them, but you don't, do you?" The fat man turned back to the cogitator and ticked on the ancient viewscreen with a fine silver stilus, his other hand beckoning him closer. "Look at this my friend." Preston said, "Look at this footage I got from you. It's from under the arena. It's quite spectacular." Lars moved in closer, still weighing his options of killing his foe. Now he stood next to him, he could see the hanger with the dragon swinging around Preston's neck. The screen showed a crystal clear picture of the catacombs of the arena. Lars could see how the three men in black approached his position and how he had reacted instinctively by taking cover behind the Ogryn. How he had disarmed the man with shock maul. How he had attacked the shuriken thrower. And as he watched, he heard Preston comment.

"That seems like the Dougle-pattern you're using... That's a risk analysis based on encountered weaponry... Here you've been lucky, but look at how you correct yourself: closing the distance as if you were carrying a shield." The feed ended with a close up shot of Lars, holding Magnus' head in his hand, roaring like a beast as the man's life slipped through his fingers. Here too, Lars could see the dragon hanger around Magnus's neck. Suddenly Lars noticed that Preston was staring at him intently. "You're a lawman - there is no denying - but what I am interested in is that, my friend." Preston said as he ticked once more with the stilus on the pictscreen. The point of the stilus struck the screen right on Lars' face, torn by frustration and regret. "Is that for real, my friend?"

Lars remained silent. He stepped backwards and fell into the single couch of the hab. He couldn't escape Preston's eyes. His gaze didn't waver for a second. "That is... that is my... He was my friend. He's dead." Lars offered. It was true enough. Magnus had been a mark at first and as he had come to know the man, Lars had been reassured that he was into the heretical traffic over his ears. But he had also come to know the guy that tried to keep his crew safe. That stood by the damned men and women that laboured on the lowest enginarium decks. That had searched for a way out. A way to a better life. Lars didn't need to lie that over the months aboard the _Gaelian Star_ , he had felt that if Magnus and Lars had switched places back on Rexon, he might have been the one that would have died on Desoleum.

It seemed that Preston left it at that. At least for a moment. Then he was back at him with renewed vigor. "You know they were there for you? Those five soldiers. Why would one of Desoleum's prime houses be interested in an anonymous enginarium crew? Care to tell me that?" Lars didn't offer him any answers, so Preston lashed out again. "And why are they still looking for you if they got the four others? It's been four days since this happened." Preston pressed, ticking once more with the stilus on the viewscreen, "Four days and they are becoming more rash by the hour. Why don't you tell me who or what you are?"

Preston didn't break eye contact with Lars, instead, he only stared deeper into his eyes, even as he continued the crossexamination. "You can forget about picking up your old life, my friend. The _Star_ has sailed off without you. There is no way back. You're either with us or against us. There is no middle ground. Assuming I start trusting you of course." Preston finished, taking his hanger between his thumb and index finger. "So what's it gonna be, friend?"

Lars had been sitting for a good ten minutes on the couch, trying to get his thoughts cleared. After he had been pinned by Preston, he had grunted, but hadn't offered an answer. He was in deep shit and he could use every second to get his story straight.

He had been made as a trained soldier, which was a problem, because now he had to explain why a trained man was working as a lowly mechanic aboard a trader. His second problem was that he'd lost all access to his credentials. His alpha was gone, together with the _Gaelian Star_. And to top it off, he had no idea why a Desoleum noble house was after him. But he also saw an opportunity. Preston hadn't killed him, even if he supsected him of being a Throne agent. And he was trying to get Lars to pick a side. He could go further under cover, but it would be harder than ever as he would go in without a good cover story backing him. Moreover, without sanction for this cover, he might as well end up on the wrong side of the Law. Arthur would cover for him, but anyone else that caught him in this scheme...

There weren't many alternatives though. Definitely not if he wanted to finish his assignment with some results. So Lars decided to go for it, balls out. "Alright. There is no denying. I have been trained." Preston looked up from the pictscreen and turned his chair around. "I'm listening, my friend." Lars scraped his throat. He was walking an extremely thin line. He needed to admit that he was a risk, but not so much of a risk that he'd be killed outright. "You might have noticed where I came from?" Lars said as he pointed at his neck. With four days of unconsciousness, Lars assumed that the man knew everything about him that could be learned by looking at him. Such as noticing that he wasn't a lho smoker.

Preston nodded. "I've seen that. I even heard from it. Long way from here, yeah." Now it was Lars' turn to nod. "Than maybe you have also heard about all the _skräp_ that took place there a couple of years ago?" Lars shut up, trying to commit Preston into confirming this, but the fat man remained stoic, so Lars continued. "There was an awful lot of trouble with the Fabricator General. A big _skitstormär_. The Arbites really shook up the _plats_. And in the end, a lot of men found themselves on the loosing side." Preston kept his silence, but he had started playing with the stilus, a signal Lars interpreted as being interested by the story. He doubled his efforts to convince the man. "I was one of them. I'd been an enforcer and supported the Fabricator's rule. When this arbitrator Mahara shut us down, a bunch of us didn't wait around to see how she would distribute Imperial justice. We abandoned our posts and took the first job that would get us out of the sector. During the years we spread out and changed ship quite a few times. Some of us died. I finally found some security under Magnus when I signed up with the _Gaelian Star_. So yeah. I'm a trained man, you saw that right."

Lars shut up and waited to see how Preston would react. But the little eyes, pinched between his fat cheeks and brows, squinted right back at him. Lars tried to keep his cool under the man's scrutiny. Lars felt a bit nauseated because of the tension and the nutridrink in his stomach. Finally Preston bit. "Ok. But what about all the attention you're getting. Care to explain that?" Lars' mind raced. He could explain the things he knew. His combat reflexes, ok. But the reason why a noble house was on his back, assuming Preston wasn't lying to him. How could he lie about something if he didn't know the truth himself?

"Well..." Lars offered as he took another swig of the nutridrink to gain time, "I... I really don't know." He bit back the acid reflux as his tension peeked and his stomach reacted once more to the beverage. He could see how Preston's face crumpled into an unbelieving frown. "Look _make_." Lars started, "I just came down from the _Gaelian Star_. All I know is that Magnus told me we were to meet a _nägon_ with a lot of _myndigët_. And I only just made it into his little _bünt_. So I don't know _make_. I don't know what we were into. I only know he took care of us. That he tried to get us a _bättre_ life. Frak! I'm not stupid as _skit_ you know. He had no _schas_ out, except something that would get us in _äkta_ danger. I thought it would be danger from the _Lag_ , but perhaps he was scamming someone else. Frak if I know, _make_."

Lars had mixed in a lot of his old slang, and his voice had taken on a tone of desperation, hoping that such basic language would be more convincing. "He was supposed to get us out. He was just supposed to get us out." Lars sobbed, and as a final token to give his plea more force, he threw away the bottle of nutridrink, plastering the wall with its contents. Lars laid his eyes on Preston. The man was still quietly sitting in the chair that was two sizes too small for his enormous bottom. For half a minute an uncomfortable silence hung between the two men.

"You're gonna clean that up, my friend. And then I'll tell you something more about the little scheme your late friend was into."


	44. Chapter 44: Paper trail

_+++5.015.987.M41+++_

 _+++Desoleum, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_

 _+++Hive Jarvis, Verrazi Depot VD-68+++_

Willis had only made planetfall six hours ago, but here he was, sitting in a comfortable chair, in the lion's den. He had overcome the routine at the back door of the Verrazi spire palace easily enough. The female doorman, dressed in some sort of light armoured uniform, had distinguished him immediately from the normal deliveries and had stepped in to shoo him away. During the little confrontation, Willis whispered that he had a contract there. The woman had told him to back off, but at the same time, she had shoved a small transmitter in his hands. Only minutes later he had been asked for the contract code by vox and after he had given it, he'd received some coordinates in turn.

Now he was sitting quite a few levels lower in the hive, in a well maintained and secured hangar that belonged to the Verrazi family, as the large black and golden unitaur symbol on the doors and walls made clear. The guards at the gate had known he was coming and he had been admitted without questions asked. He'd received a cup of recaf of a decent quality and been shown to one of the offices overseeing the depot's floor. They had kept him waiting for about half an hour when finally a man and a woman had entered the office.

At first glance, it would seem that the man was some kind of protector of the woman - he easily measured two metres in length and was half that wide, but it was the woman that stepped in to frisk him, while the man made himself comfortable in the chair across the clean desk. The woman had a lite frame and had a fierce look in her eyes. She had used black mascara and some other products, but those couldn't hide the thin scar running from her right ear to her cheek. The girl was experienced as she found all three of his sidearms, including the compact automatic that was partly strapped under the neck of his boot.

Neither the man, nor the woman seemed to mind that he had come armed and Willis was surprised to see that the man, who was dressed in a neat uniform with the golden unitaur of House Verrazi subtly embroided on his collar, put his own heavy bolt pistol on the table. It was just a standard version of the weapon, but it sure meant that the other party wasn't to be underestimated. The fact that it was resting on the desk, meant that they wanted cooperation. Willis didn't doubt that the other two still had some aces up their sleeves, but he didn't mind. He had it under control.

"So, you say you have information on the Akira contract," the man started in a business like way, not wasting time on pleasantries, "If your information is any good, we will pay you the sum stated in the contract. If it isn't we will both part ways. No harm done, right?" Willis didn't hesitate and cut right in. "Right. You think I'll just spill my info only to hear you telling a smooth lie that my information is out of date? Let's turn things around and hear you tell what you already know. That way, I'll know whether my intel is still fresh."

The other man gave Willis a small, mean smile. "Not so stupid as you look, eh. But we aren't here to scam you out of your money. Is this your first time for the cartel? You should know that we keep true to our deals. It's just good business. If we scam you now, you will turn your attention to other buyers in the future. And where would that leave us?" Willis shifted on his chair. His cautiousness seemed not to sit well with the woman standing in the corner. She had unclasped the holster of her own bolt pistol. She had done it quite subtly, but Willis was a a trained arbite.

"All right. This is my first time. And from where I'm coming from they did business in other ways. So, if it's all the same to you, why don't you tell me what you already know. I'm quick to adapt. I'll pick up on your code right away." The other man looked a bit bemused at Willis' resistance. From the corner of his eyes, Willis could see that the woman was balancing from one foot on another. A sign that her unease hadn't been dealt with. "Fine, friend. But we'll need to talk about that attitude of yours afterwards. Regulator Akira has been made on Orinoca. His traces led to the _Gaelian Star_ which made passage to Desoleum. Some men were waiting for him here, but he escaped. At this point, we have no trail, so anything you have to add, might make it worthwhile."

Willis leaned back in his chair and tensed. The story of the Verrazi holder gave him mixed feelings. He was relieved to hear that Lars had survived a first attempt and that they didn't have any more leads to track him, but he was unpleasantly surprised by the fact that they had been able to land a first blow at all. The Cartel's network must be very good indeed. "So, friend. Time to cough up your intel. Or have you come to the conclusion that whatever you were to tell us, is no longer of any interest to us." the other man continued with a smug face.

For a moment, Willis wanted to give a snappy retort, but then he would have to have something to show for it. And he didn't have more information. So, instead, he shut up and put both his hands flat on the desk. After a moment of silence, he looked at the man across. "Frak. I really could have used that money, you know. But I only knew he was on the _Star_. I only managed to..." "Then our business is concluded, it seems. I'm sorry to hear it." the long man said as he stood up from the desk.

"You don't think... You don't think you can get me a job, do you?" Willis tried. The Verrazi contact really was the best way of getting to Lars, but from the condescending look and patronizing tone of the holder, it became clear that that ship had sailed. "I don't think so, friend. You don't strike me as very trustworthy. I don't think you're cut out for this." And with those words, the man stepped up from the table, holstering his bolt pistol and turning his back on Willis. The woman gave him another dirty look and followed her boss out of the room, all the while keeping an eye on the arbite. And with the duo, Willis' only lead on the Cartel left as well.

* * *

 _+++5.025.987.M41+++_

 _+++Desoleum, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_

 _+++Hive Desoleum Primis, Adeptus Arbites Fortress+++_

A day after his unsuccesful approach of his only lead, Willis had hooked up with the Adeptus Arbites on Desoleum, after he had thoroughly checked that he wasn't being followed. Soon the problem of imposing Imperial Law on Desoleum became clear as the arbitrator of the fortress told him that in fact the Sanctionaries, belonging to the Oath system of the Consortium of Desoleum, were the major force of the law in the three hives. It explained for the relatively small fortress and the limited personnel the Adeptus Arbites were doing their work with. The situation had further deteriorated in the absence of the Judge Superior. But arbitrator Karellus, a man with a grey beard and distinctive green eyes, had offered him all the help and resources that were available. Which mostly meant access to the datanet of the Desoleum Arbites and some spare time of the man himself.

Willis had gratefully accepted the offer and had made himself comfortable in the main dataloom hall which was fed with uncountable reports from the Adeptus Administratum and a steady stream of status reports that came in from the Sanctionaries. Karellus had warned him that he could mostly trust on the Administratum to be correct, but that if he was looking for dirt on the higher echelons of the Consortium, he shouldn't hold high hopes as the Consortium censored the data coming from the Sanctionaries. Still, Willis had dug in with fervour as this stream of information was his last hope in getting ahead of the enemy. But after a day or so, it had become clear how hard the task was he had set for himself. He'd been looking into the reports which were marked the datestamp of the arrival of the _Gaelian Star_ , but there were literally hundreds of thousands of reports from that day. The servitors which assisted him had limited possibilities of filtering certain reports, if they were classified correctly. But even with a margin of error of 0.01% - something the local administrator had been very proud of - this meant that each day at least a hundred written reports were misplaced. And that wasn't even counting the number of reports that went haywire or missing due to erronous classifications by the machine spirits housing in the ancient data looms.

Still, Willis had worked on with a grim determination, not ready to leave his friend in mortal danger while he was left to his own devices. He had just worked through another folder of reports, when Karellus stepped through the narrow path between high stacks of paper and dataslates that had been stashed all over the room he had been given to work in. "You could use some fresh air in here." Karellus said rather sarcasticly as the room had no windows and bathed continually in the smell of ink and paper as the open door gave out on one of the major storage rooms. The man had to raise his voice as the noise of the dozens of servitors that wheeled around in the storage room beyond made quite a racket. Willis had become used to the noise and to him it was mostly background wash. "Yeah, I know. Or just a Marleybrough." Willis replied, equally sarcastic as the use of fire within this area of the fortress was strictly forbidden. "Why did you come down here? Enjoying the scenery?" Karellus had finally managed to reach the desk, without throwing over any of the unstable stacks of documents. He reached over a dozen of dossier maps and handed Willis a simple dataslate. "I thought this might peek your interest."

Willis opened the file on the slate and saw the now, all too familiar insignia of the Sanctionary. In his time down here, he had learned that Karellus had been right when he had said that these contained next to nothing in the area of useful intel, which meant he had prefered looking into Administratum reports to find circumstancial evidence or clues of Lars' current position or the Kerviel Cartel's current activities. This Sanctionary report seemed different though. Even at first glance that much was clear: the fact that the location of the observations were made on one of the highest levels of Desoleum Primaris betrayed this. Next, Willis read about the assassination of a lordship of the Consortium. The corroner had found small needle wounds on his body, but no other signs of attack. Witnesses that were in the presence of the man had only seen the man collapse over the table, right in the middle of a tea ceremony. It all pointed to the usage of some sort of toxin delivered by a needle rifle. The fact that the needles themselves had not been found, could only be explained by one of three reasons. Either the Sanctionaries had been incompetent, something Willis definitely considered, or the needles had been made from a bio-degradable material that made sure they would never be found, or thirdly, someone had picked them up before the Sanctionaries had come to the scene. The more he read, the more he was inclined to go with the second explanation. The spire palace had gone in complete lockdown, but still the highly trained guards hadn't been able to track down the killer. Or at least, they didn't think they had. A black valkyrie had taken off only two minutes after the hit, but the local aircontrol had lost the shuttle almost immediately after it had taken off. Nevertheless, the Sanctionaries had found a gruesome discovery. In one of the hallways that had been sealed because of the lockdown, they had found some sort of bony remains. The corroner hadn't been able to determine much about it, but at least the bones had been identified as human.

"What do you think?" Willis asked Karellus, who had been stroking his beard as Willis read the report. "Well. Clearly this is an outside hit. If it had been one of the other leaders of the Consortium, we would never have seen this report. And, I think this was a highly organized hit. Something that fits right in with your Cartel business. Although I can't for the light of the Emperor determine how this is tied up to your missing friend." Willis nodded approvingly. He had come to the same conclusions. "At least it'll give us something to build on. And we'll be able to track this both ways. We can investigate what this House has been up to the last couple of weeks. Perhaps we pick up on Lars during his visit of Desoleum. And we can also try to go after the assassins. They might lead us to whoever has issued a contract for my mate." "And, it will get you out of this room, Walther. I'd drink to that!" Karellus added. Willis smiled, for the first time since he had landed on Desoleum. He had been given another chance. He wouldn't squander it.


	45. Chapter 45: A new hideout

_+++5.030.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Orinoca, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Unnamed Vessel - Captain's quarters+++_

The room was a mess. One fauteuil laid overturned on the ground. The other was ripped open, its stuffing, fine Vioneze wool, bulging out like the entrails of a disemboweled man. Everything had had to go. The liquorcabinet was in shambles and most of the portrets against the wall were cut or even burned up. Even the steel walls themselves, carefully hidden behind an exquisite wooden facade, had been damaged. When magister Graz lost his temper, he lost it good. And even now, Elisabeth could see that the man hadn't calmed down. His rage was smouldering right under the surface, ready to roar up again like a wounded lion when threatened with a spear. There wasn't much she could do at this point. She could only wait until her former pupil would once more compose himself.

Graz clenched and unclenched his fists. Even now, after the wanton destruction he had brought to his room, he still felt like he could kill. It was a good thing only Elisabeth was here. Any other man would have found himself between the debris, pouring his blood to the mess on the carpet. Deep inside the voice of reason was yelling at him to get a grip, but he didn't want to hear it. He needed this time and space to vent the anger and fear out of his system. Anger because his plan had failed. The Desoleum noble was dead, but the arbite had gotten away. Worse, he had gotten away and there wasn't a sign of him. The trail from the Hylun Arena had gone cold almost immediately. As if a big fish had come to the surface and swallowed his quarry whole, only to dive to the deep once more.

But there was also fear. After the failure, Graz had done his best to keep it a secret. But somehow news had reached the Cartel Board. And the grand master had send him a short but crystal clear message. 'Get him, or we'll get you.' There hadn't been a sliver left of the formal and civilized tone, and none of the respect either, that he had enjoyed at the board table. He wasn't even sure if he was being given a chance. In the Cartel, the wolves were always snapping at your heels, but you had a big stick to kick at them or even slam them away for good. But now, it was clear that his stick had been taken away. He would have to make do with the resources he had left. And with whatever time he had left.

After five more minutes, Elisabeth saw how her master sheated his power scimitar and stood up. The look on his face had changed into one of control. But Elisabeth could see that it was a forced control, not one coming from reason. Her master stood for his biggest challenge yet, and he was going in unbalanced.

* * *

 _+++5.089.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Pellenne, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Zagreb Mining Complex, Overseer Station+++_

Lars took a sip of his recaf. Although he wasn't fond of the drink, it was the best a man could get around here. The Mechanicus didn't allow for a lot of alcoholic beverages being consumed inside the camp, so even table beer wasn't to be found easily around here. And the drinking water had a metallic tang, probably because the wells on Pellenne had been tainted by the gigantic mining operations. As Lars had experienced before, living conditions of their labourers weren't the prime objective of their Mechanicus masters. The fact that Lars had access to recaf could actually be considered a luxury.

He was waiting for Preston's contact. The man had send him off after another few days in the appartment in Hive Jarvis aboard a slow trader. The credentials and bio passport he had gotten from him were more than enough to pass the flimsy security measures at the space port. In his industrial style suitcase, he had found orders of Preston directing him to Pellenne to take on the job of Magnus, only at another place. He was to recruit individuals that showed promise and that would be in strategically good places in case of some sort of rebellion. It wasn't much to go on, but Lars had to admit that the little crew Magnus had recruited could easily put the _Gaelian Star_ in danger. It was just a question of disabling the right systems. Although getting the captain of the _Star_ into the scheme might well have been far more efficient.

When Lars had asked more information about the forementioned rebellion, Preston had ignored his interest, saying that he was in no position to judge the overall scheme, but that he and his masters were busy, trying to create a better world for people like him. Those that were abandoned by the Imperium. This was also the main reason that they couldn't recruit with the higher ups. They were busy defending their meagre post, function or territory. They couldn't see the importance of what was to come. And they wouldn't be motivated to fight for it. Lars could still hear Preston's voice, perhaps one of the only times he had seen the man excited.

"You of all people should know, Christian." the new name Lars had given Preston, "you should know that in the Imperium the brass and the rich rule, with indifference, contempt or even hate for those that slave to maintain their power and their riches. No more. We will have no more of this! We will rise up and take their power from them. We will stand up and distribute their riches among our own. And we will succeed because we are legion. We will succeed because they need us. And if countless of us, deny them their power and their wealth, if millions of us will abandon them. Then, we will win and then can we start building a new Imperium."

Afterwards, Lars had initially thought that he had finally gained some of Preston's trust, but he was to be disappointed only minutes later when Preston explained what he expected of him. He would be one of the countless cogs in the machine, trying to gain momentum and create a movement where they weren't strong yet. And this would be how he could prove himself. Lars had been send away from Preston's side, a man who he knew to be at one of the crossroads of the cult he was investigating. This man had after all provided Magnus, the enginarium worker, and lord Kasparin, one of Orinoca's finest, with the hangers that stood symbol for the cult. It was also why he believed Preston's story to be false since he was manifestly recruiting among the brass and the rich. Perhaps he strived to bring about a new order, but it wouldn't be one of the masses. Or perhaps he just told whoever was listening what he or she wanted to hear.

'Perhaps one should promise those who have nothing that they can win everything, and perhaps one should convince those that have that they can lose everything.' Lars thought just when the door of the refectorium he had been sitting in, opened. In came an elderly woman, her skin colour grey, just like all of those that had lived and worked in the mines for years. Her silver hair was tied firmly in a bun on the back of her head and although she had to use a walking stick, her eyes betrayed that her mind was anything but feeble.

Lars stood up and poured another cup of recaf, which he handed to the old woman. As he had expected, she only answered him with a grunt as she sat down across from him. This was only the third time they met, but lady Kuntich was always in a foul mood it seemed. They hadn't had much time together as these visits were to be short if they wanted to keep them secret. As an overseer of the mining complex, Lars didn't enjoy a lot of free time and definitely not a lot where he was alone.

"Report." the woman commanded. "Since the last time we met, I've been able to contact four more overseers. Two of those seemed inclined to throw in their lot with me. The third couldn't decide and the fourth might be a risk. He seemed very loyal to the Mechanicus." Lars began. "I will deal with this last one. How about the effects on the workforce?" Kuntich asked. The overseers had been declared a strategic goal as soon as he had arrived at the Zagreb Mining Complex. But as a secondary objective, Lars had to try to bring in labourers as well. Especially those that manned key positions within the mining complex. And Lars was surprised how easily it all went: a few short talks with them, a few shared complaints about their Mechanicus masters and to finish it off, a bit of unexpected leniency from an overseer. Afterwards, they came to find him. Not the other way around.

"I've been able to convince three foremen at the drilling control station. And another five at the pressure house. I'll need those amulets though. They were looking forward to belong with us." Lars replied. The woman smiled, almost. But Lars could read her eyes and saw contentment. "Very well, Christian. I'll make sure that I leave a bunch of them at the usual drop point. Make sure you retrieve them instantly. The Mechanicus don't look kindly on the spreading of non-Omnissiah cults." Lady Kuntich made herself ready to leave, as Lars interrupted her. "Mylady, there might be some of them that would be able to recruit on their own." Now, the woman didn't try to keep her true feelings hidden. With a sour mouth and scornful eyes, she answered him. "Let us see if they prove themselves worthy first, Christian. You never know if someone isn't playing a double role."

The warning was barely veiled and Lars knew that Preston had given her very specific orders. But almost immediately her eyes softened. "You performed good, Christian. Make sure to keep working at the overseers. Apart from the skitarii, they are the only force with access to decent weaponry. If we want to enforce our position, they will be crucial. You've done well. Now continue to do so."

The woman stood up and finished her recaf. Without another look at Lars, she turned around and walked straight out of the refectorium. As she left, Lars felt relieved, but at the same time the nod in his belly that he had had since the mishap on Desoleum only grew. It appeared that he was passing this test, but on the other hand, the conspiracy he was on to seemed larger than ever. And a lot harder to stop than taking out a single mark.


	46. Chapter 46: Elisabeth

_+++5.152.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Pellenne, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Bari space port - Freight terminal 5+++_

Hidden between the rusty cargocontainers, Willis enjoyed a good view on the scene before him. He had picked this vantage point with care as he had no doubt about the uniqueness of the occasion. And the risks that he was about to take. After a thorough investigation of the hit on the Desoleum noble, with the invaluable assistance of arbitrator Karellus - who seemed to have a nose for funny little details - Willis had been able to pick up the trail of the guy who had organized it. Or rather, the woman who had done it. He hadn't had spoken to any of the people who were actually involved in the hit, but he had talked to a few witnesses who had testified that a woman with a golden mask had left instructions and considerable material means for the operation. The fact that she had seemingly disappeared when she had left Desoleum via the space port, had been a tough nut to crack, but with Karellus' connections, they tracked down a vessel that had been scrapped from the Administratum records. There was no name, but going by the translation point it had chosen, and the warp echoes it had left behind - something the local astropathic choir had told him about, but which he hadn't really understood - they had been able to track down its destination. And once he had followed it to the Pellenne mining world, he had found it in orbit, a Defiant-class ship, preferred by rogue traders or other explorator parties. Not the largest ship, but incredibly sturdy and with a weapon configuration that could rival a Navy destroyer or even light cruiser.

The combination of the high quality armour and effective weaponry had made it a fortress in space. And there was nothing the local SDF could bring to the fore that would be able to match its combat prowess. And that was assuming Willis obtained cooperation of the planetary governor of Pellenne. As a regulator of the Adeptus Arbites, Willis would be able to get the attention of the governor, but the price would be a lot of visibility. His enemy, who obviously had a lot of resources and an excellent network, wouldn't miss such a thing. A direct approach wouldn't be the answer to this. But Willis had noticed that contrary to the Desoleum hit, his target was far less cautious this time. He couldn't really understand why but instead of working via a middleman, the enemy had seemed convinced to set up a direct operation. There had been a lot of traffic coming and going from the vessel in orbit, and the Pellenne space port only had so many places where one could prepare a violent operation unnoticed.

So here he was, snooping over the edge of a massive cargocontainer, under a reddish cameo-blanket, hoping that he wouldn't be noticed. Before him he could see how a dozen armed men had taken position at a cargo bay. They had been standing around there for over half an hour and Willis wondered how long the waiting would continue, just when the noise of jet engines reached his ears, which send the men below scrambling as well. As a lighter approached the depot, the men assembled in what had to be some sort of formation, although Willis wasn't impressed. Their outfitting on the other hand, was impressive. He could see a few needle rifles and a guy carrying a melta. He even saw one lugging around a heavy bolter, strapped to his body with an auto-stabilizing harness. And they all wore customized armour, depending on their specialty. The guys with the needle rifles wore some sort of high quality mesh armour, while the man with the heavy bolter seemed to be wearing heavy carapace armour with some sort of mechanized joints.

Even while the jet engines of the lighter were shutting down, the side door of the crew cabin opened and his target, the woman with the golden mask, climbed down the ladder. This seemed to send an electric shock through the mercs standing below. The moment they got a glimpse of the golden mask, they all bend the knee and lowered their heads, staring firmly to the ground. It was perhaps the first clue Willis missed.

The woman gracefully stepped towards the leader of the mercenaries and gently tapped him on the shoulder. The man stood up immediately, but kept his gaze firmly on the rockcrete at his feet. Willis couldn't actually hear what the woman was saying behind her mask, but the man before her tensed. Thirty seconds later, the man blurted out a bunch of orders, sending the other mercenaries running. The woman herself remained still for a second or two before she suddenly turned around to walk back to the lighter. As Willis scrambled to get into a better position to board the lighter himself, he missed his second clue. Instead of clambering foot by foot onto the narrow service ladder, the woman moved up with as much grace and ease as if she had been going up the magnificent staircase of the Cardinal Temple on Aventine itself.

With the mercenaries moving out on a few heavy Chennai 4x4's and the jet engines spinning up once more, Willis dashed from between the cargocontainers and grabbed hold of the service ladder.

 _'Now or never! This is my chance!'_

Overhead he could hear how a crew member was manipulating the heavy switch and wheel to close the door manually and Willis could feel the shuddering of the spacecraft as he climbed up the stairs as fast as he dared. Just when the hydraulic system of the door budged into movement, Willis reached the top of the ladder. He saw a surprised look on the operator's face and immediately took advantage of the moment by grabbing the man by the trousers and hurling him down to the rockcrete below. With another tug, he hauled himself aboard and pulled himself up. The door slid shut behind him and immediately Willis pulled his heavy handcannon. He felt the adrenaline coursing through his veins. The small hallway he found himself in was deserted, but from the cabine to the fore he heard the pilots conducting the pre-flight checks. On his right, to the back of the shuttle, he saw an open door leading to the passenger's cabins.

Abandoning caution, Willis dived through the door on his right and jumped down a small iron stairwell, landing at its bottom. This room too was deserted, but for the figure of the woman with the golden mask. As the woman stood up from one of the comfortable plush chairs - bolted to the floor in rows of five on each side of the shuttle - Willis suddenly felt cold, as if he had plunged into an icy river without so much as a swimsuit. There was an undeniable menace radiating from the woman, despite her lack of facial expression. The golden mask was intimidating enough. Willis pointed his handcannon straight at her body, but unconcerned, the woman threw back her black cloak to reveal a power sword.

"Adeptus Arbites! Keep your hands of the sword and raise them where I can see them." Willis yelled, but even as he shouted the sommation, Willis knew he had made a mistake. This wasn't a crime boss issuing orders. This was a trained assassin. An anonymous representative of death. And by the looks of it he had invited her to practice her craft. Within five seconds the situation had turned from an arrest to a fight to the death, and Willis didn't liked his chances.

In a split second, the woman pulled the sword and Willis fired off his first shot, but the woman had jumped to the side, summersaulting over a row of seats, easily avoiding the massive slug. Willis corrected himself and swung his handgun to follow the woman's movements. He pulled the trigger once more, but the slug crashed into the aircraft's wall. Another acrobatic jump of the masked woman had made sure that she had halved the distance between them. It left Willis with even less time to amend his aim. A third bullet was deflected by a sweep of her sword and then she was onto him. Willis ducked under her first swing but wasn't fast enough to dodge the return. The sword cut right through one of the plush seats, scorching it as it passed, and hit him across the chest. It was only the Emperor's luck that made sure that he wasn't cut in half, but from the tear in his armour, the stench of burned flesh rose up. In an almost futile gesture, Willis fired his penultimate shot, but even standing in front of him, perhaps only a metre away, the woman managed to sidestep the shot.

 _'What are you?'_

It was a thought Willis didn't really have the time to spare as he should have focused on the powersword. A fraction of a second later, a second gash had appeared on his armour, this time, cutting deeper in Willis' chest. He screamed out and blinded by the pain he barrelled forward, surprising the assassin with this suicidal move. They both fell to the floor, Willis on top of the woman. Surprised he was actually still alive, Willis jammed his left arm in the elbow of the woman's swordarm, effectively neutralizing the weapon. But it had also made him shift his weight which the assassin exploited handsomely. With a decisive push of her pelvis she toppled Willis over and with an incredible feat of agility, she followed his movement to land on his back. Willis now found his neck right over the keen edge of the blade, the assassin pushing with all her weight down on him, forcing him slowly towards the crackling metal beneath him. Fighting to regain the initiative, Willis tried to roll to either one side, but the woman had planted her feet firmly against the rows of chairs at either side of them. A drop of his sweat fell down on the blade, hissing when it hit and Willis could only imagine what would happen when his neck would be forced down any further. In a final effort he turned his handcannon on himself and wriggled to the left. Then he fired his last shot, immediately feeling a hot burning sensation and a peak of pain going through his body. The bullet had hit his left side, but even though it felt like a hot piece of metal was pressing against his side, Willis felt a sense of relief as the force that was pushing him down towards the blade, disappeared and was replaced with the dead weight of the woman's body, who had taken the bullet right into the stomach.

Willis reloaded the gun hastily. The woman in the golden mask lay before him, breathing shallowly, suffering from a large wound in her abdomen where the slug of the handcannon had ended up. Willis didn't care to see what damage he had taken himself, but it seemed less serious than when he was shot down on Phlegethon. At least he was moving. And he would need to be quick. The crew would be over him in an instant. A handcannon wasn't a subtle weapon, neither in damage, nor in noise. With two rounds in the weapon, he heard the door from the cockpit being rammed open. He smashed the magazine shut and aimed the gun directly at the golden mask of his opponent. The moment the face of one of the pilots appeared, Willis started shouting. "You frakking stop there, frak! The life of your boss is frakking resting in my frakking hands. So frakking stop and listen carefully!" The pilot, an unshaven voidborn thug, stopped dead in his track, raising his hands slowly. "Alright... Alright." The man seemed to remain a lot more calm than the arbite. "Alright. You're the boss now, champ. What do you wanna do?" he said. Willis took a deep breath, but blew out the air violently, when a new flash of pain went through his body. He hadn't anticipated this. And he needed to be on top of this. If they suspected any weakness, this thing would be over sooner rather than later.

As he didn't get any reply, the pilot spoke up again. "Seems like your bargaining chip is bleeding out. Do you want me to change that situation?" Willis crept backwards, favouring the pilot as a target now. "Get your first aid kit and bind her wounds!" The pilot nodded and moved out of the cabin, stepping backwards. Half a minute later he appeared again, holding one hand over his head, the other extended before him with a basic medkit. "Throw me a bandaid and the isosyn spray!" Willis yelled. The man opened the little coffer and slowly took out the bandage and a yellow cannister, carefully holding his other hand over his head. "Alright. You're doing just fine. Now, throw them to me. Then you can start working on your boss." Willis said and the shrill note had disappeared from his voice. The situation seemed to be under control. For now.

The arbite saw how the pilot slowly stepped forwards towards the body with the golden mask. As he kneeled, he started rummaging through the contents of the medkit. Before starting his own attempt at first aid, Willis studied the man a bit longer. He didn't throw any looks at the arbite and kept his attention on the woman. And he still moved very carefully and slowly, perhaps doing his best not to give Willis any reason to pull the trigger of his gun once more. Satisfied and reassured, Willis popped the lit of the cannister and started spraying the isosyn spray over his gunshotwound and the deeper gash over his chest. The drug stung, but Willis had learned from Lars' fate on Phlegethon. He didn't care to risk catching some outlandish virus like his comrade in arms had done. Next, he threw the cannister back to the pilot.

"You might want to use that. She'll thank you for it later." The man snorted in reply and Willis raised an eyebrow. The man didn't seem very fond of his boss. But he had been looking out for her best interests nevertheless. Willis couldn't spare the issue more time as he concentrated on stuffing the bandage against his wound. It would stop the bleeding at least, but it was far from a long term fix. When he had done his best, he stood up from the floor. He felt dizzy, but tried to hide it from the pilot. The fact that the ship was shuddering helped to conceal it, but also raised some questions.

"Where are we going?" Willis asked. "Can't be too far away with this bird." The pilot didn't bother to look up, but answered anyway. "Heading for the ship, champ. You haven't really thought this out, did you?" The words of the pilot stung as they struck true, but determined not to show it, Willis replied calmly. "Go tell your friend that we're not docking on the ship. I'll need her awake before we go anywhere. I've got a lot of questions for her." "Fine, but we might be eating K-rations sooner than later if that's your plan. I'm no medicae, but she looks properly damaged. Not sure when she's going to come round."

The man stopped talking and seemed to think something over. Willis caught on to him, before the man could hide his hesitation. "If you got a solution to our little predicament, I'd rather hear it now, frak. She might be my bargaining ship, but she's as much yours. I'm only interested in her. You... You're cannon fodder. I won't even waste a judgement on you." That last sentence seemed to confuse the pilot, but after a second or two he shrugged and mumbled something under his breath. Immediately after, he spoke more clearly though. "She's not the boss champ. I guess that whatever it is you want to discuss, you'll have to do with the master. Not sure if I should be telling you this. There are standing orders that he's not to be mentioned, but I've seen him a couple of times. And she's the only one that's valuable to him. So, it seems you are in luck after all." There was a resigned tone to the man's voice, as if he regretted giving the information as he was speaking, but Willis didn't care for the pilot's worries. "Then let's get your boss on the line, shall we?" Willis replied. "Let's drag her to the cockpit. I want to keep an eye on all of you."

Five minutes later, Willis found himself in the craft's cockpit, being handed a vox headphones with which he struggled to get them on as he kept his handcannon in his right hand. Through the canopy their destination could be seen: the imposing black form of the Defiant-class ship. Willis could now fully appreciate the design of the ancient ship and he praised himself for not going to war against the ship with the meagre SDF support of Pellenne. The pilot that had carried the woman with the golden mask, now gave him a sign that he was to be patched through to their master. A last crackle of the vox indicated the presence of the other man on the line. Willis held his mouth for a few seconds, but the other man did the same. So, a bit uncertain, Willis started negotiations.

"This is regulator Walther Willis of the Adeptus Arbites. I have good information that you and your aides have been conspiring against our lawful reign and that you have been gunning for one of my comrades in arms." Now that he actually could speak to the man that was going after Lars, Willis hesitated. He had expected to confront the enemy head on, in a clear position of force. But the situation had played out differently. Willis straigtened himself. He had a good bargaining position. He would come out of this ahead. But whoever was on the other side of the line, still didn't reply. Willis felt that he was being goaded, but couldn't help himself.

"Your operations have to stop. And they need to stop now." Now, Willis got a reply from the other side. He could hear a soft laughter. "Regulator Willis, you say. My pilots have informed me of your position. You are in no position to state demands. You are in control of a valuable asset to me, but it might not be so valuable that I might abandon my... operations. And should I come to that conclusion... Your situation changes quite radically, won't it?" Suddenly on the instrument board a red light started flashing and a penetrating tsjirping sound came from the central vox grill. The pilots noticed the alert immediately and the one that had been speaking with Willis turned back to face him.

"We're getting a tracking alert! We're being targeted by short range Scorpion rockets!" The man on the vox had paused for a few seconds, but now continued. "You quite see what I mean, don't you, regulator?" For a moment, Willis didn't know what to say, giving the other man the possibility to add another snide remark. "I see you are a bit confounded by the situation, regulator. I can't blame you. Haha. But, let me offer you a way out. Tell the pilots to head to the ship and moor at docking bay C. I will send some of my men to recover the lady you have in custody. Then, we'll open negotiations..." Willis opened his mouth to argue, when the other man cut in again. "You will only get one chance to accept this offer. Handing over the lady is my price for opening a parley. This parley will be under Cartel regulations, which means that you have nothing to fear. Your life will be protected as if you were one of our own, and you will get safe passage to the closest inhabited system when our negotiations will be concluded. You can at all times end negotiations, and even if no substantial deal has been struck, your safety and your free passage will be respected. I give you my word as a magister of the Kerviel Cartel."

This all went too fast for Willis. The nervously flashing red light on the dashboard was a reminder that he couldn't stall for a lot of time. And judging by his tone and his matter of factness, the magister on the other end of the line wasn't joking around. There was a clear disdain in the man's voice, and a lot of mockery if Willis took into account the laughing and the japes. But when he had stated the conditions of the parley, his voice had gotten a more serious tone, businesslike.

As the seconds ticked away, Willis could only conclude that if he didn't accept the offer, his efforts were all but wasted. The little lighter didn't stand a chance against the rocket batteries and calling the magister's bluff seemed like a dumb idea. Just as the other man on the line scraped his voice, Willis blurted out his acceptance. Another mocking laugh was his reward, but only seconds later the tracking alert went mute once more and the cockpit bathed once more in the soft green light of the augur screen and the dozens of blueish control lights.

'Time for some more improvisation.'


	47. Chapter 47: Cartel Negotiations

_+++5.152.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Pellenne, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Unnamed vessel - Cartel library+++_

It had been as the man on the vox had told him. A number of professional and excellently equipped guards had entered the lighter when it had safely set down in the hangar bay of it's mother vessel. Two of them had been carrying a stretcher and had been followed by a follower of the Omnissiah that had immediately started working on the woman's wounds even as she was put on the stretcher and brought to a medicae facility. Some sort of officer had come to find him and had politely asked for his handgun. The man had reassured him that he would be treated as a guest of the Cartel and that he would regain access to his weapons as soon as he would leave his current company. Willis didn't feel that he had a lot of options and had accepted, although it had stung to give up his trusted sidearm. Next, the officer, a handsome young fellow with neatly cut black hair and a styled goatee, had led him through the ship. Half an hour of walking and two elevator rides later, Willis had been shown in the Cartel library.

Willis was quite surprised to find a finely decorated, stately room aboard of the otherwise utilitarian ship. The room had spread out before him, wooden furnishings and old gothic styled bookshelves everywhere in view, softly lit by dozens of golden chandeliers that hung in neat straight lines from the ceiling that had been furnished with dark brown wooden cassettes. A servant in a simple, but expensive black uniform had waited for him by the door with a golden candleholder stylized as a scribe holding out a parchment roll. The young man had bowed and without a word, had gestured him to follow him, lighting the way forward. The thick red carpet made sure that the sound of their footsteps was muffled and a reverent silence had hung over them. A few minutes later, they had arrived at a small lobby, set in the middle of the library, surrounded by a foursome of white marble statues depicting four Imperial virtues: Obedience, duty, perseverance and piety. In one of the exquisite leather armchairs his counterpart sat down, enjoying a glass of liquor, judging by the amber colour of the drink in the crystal tumbler.

"Ah regulator. Such an opportunity to make acquaintance with a member of the esteemed Adeptus Arbites. A drink?" magister Graz opened the conversation and with a gesture of his hand, he pointed at the elegant little cart on which stood a selection of bottles gathered from over the entire sector and from beyond. "Or do you prefer another pleasure?" and with another gesture, he brought the servant forward who was now holding a little chest with a variety of different lho-sticks from the top end of the gamma.

Willis took a seat in the armchair across and shook his head softly. "No, thank you... sir?" The other man smiled and was visibly amused. "I'm sorry regulator. You can enjoy my hospitality, but any information is going to cost you. Especially something as valuable as my own name. You may adress me as magister, if you wish. But let me first thank you for agreeing to this meeting. The woman you overpowered was quite dear to me. So, let us talk as gentlemen and see if we can come to a suitable solution for both parties, shall we?"

As the magister talked on, Willis felt determined that he wouldn't be drawn into this little charade of friendly negotiations. Or at least, not be drawn into a dishonourable deal. But the other man was a master at this and even though they had only talked for less than a minute, Willis had to take care not to start trusting him.

 _'This is an enemy of the Imperium. This is the man that has conspired to murder an arbite in cold blood.'_

"Yes, magister. A beneficial solution would be something to aspire for." Willis replied, doing his best to give the man a smile in turn, although he felt that the magister saw right through his ruse.

 _'Stupid frak. I'm going to take you down like the filthy criminal you really are.'_

The magister sat up in his chair. "You are sure, I can't offer you anything? I can't imagine your department having access to this kind of boons, so you should benefit from them as you can. Life is too short not to be lived fully, am I not right?" The fact that the other man insisted on having a drink, was enough for Willis to deny politely once more. And he could see a little look of annoyance on the magister's face, although he smoothly talked over it, praising him for his good sense of staying sober during negotiations. Willis couldn't stand the false compliments any more and interrupted the man.

"Perhaps we should focus on the matter at hand, magister" Willis almost scowled, but he caught himself. He hadn't forgotten about his failure during his first encounter with Cartel representatives. "I'm sorry, magister. This is all a bit uncommon for me. But I'm quite sure your time is as valuable as mine." With a sigh, the man answered and although Willis could almost feel the disdain radiating from the other man, nothing in his voice, nor his body language betrayed it. "You are right of course, regulator. But I have to point out that it was you who sought my presence, so I ask of you, how I can be of service?" The polite and controlled manners of his counterpart, infuriated Willis. As if the man was blind to the fact that he was an arbite and he himself a criminal. As if he was worth anything, but still he had to play along.

"I have seen the results of your work on Desoleum. And I believe you were actively trying to end the life of one of my friends and colleagues: regulator Lars Akira." Willis pauzed and gauged the reaction of Graz, but the man remained inscrutinable. "I am not really interested in the reasons for your attempt, but far more in ending them." Now, confronted with such bluntness, the magister leaned forward, and his previous politeness and fake smile were gone. "I am not going to confirm your accusations, but I'm not going to deny them either. We are in very different places, both in position as in power, but I respect the fact that you can cause me trouble. So, let's say I can stop any attempts on your friends life. What would you offer me in return? I doubt you are so dumb that you think you can just requisition this from me without an offer from your part."

Willis breathed out slowly. What did he have to offer? But he wasn't even seriously contemplating anything. The other man had annoyed him and had continued to anger him. The memory of his results on Desoleum with the other Cartel representative were now a distant memory. "Perhaps your immunity, or a promise not to continue the prosecution?" Willis snapped in return. "Magister." he added belatedly with a voice dripping with sarcasm now the niceties were over. But Graz only gave him a quick smile and a shake of his head as if the offer Willis had made was some kind of joke instead of a threat. "I'm afraid that won't do, regulator. And if this is what constitutes of gentleman like behaviour among your kind, I am even more grateful for my own position. Perhaps you need a break to reconsider your answer?"

Willis remained silent for a few seconds and tried to regain his cool. But the fact that the crime boss responsable for the attempt on Lars' life was sitting right across him and laughed at him, wasn't particularly helpful. "Maybe... Maybe an agreement about access to the Cold Vaults?" Again, Graz smiled, but this time he seemed genuinely amused. "You think you've got anything there we don't have ourselves? Or that we couldn't gain access without striking such a special deal? Haha. No, regulator. Nor me, nor the Cartel is interested in that offer."

Out of ideas, Willis clenched his fists. "So then what do you propose, magister? A century of my service to you? Or..." But Graz cut in. "If you have no valid offers for me, I will indeed ask for something... Information. Who could have guessed, right?" the man said with a grand gesture to the books, scrolls and tomes of knowledge around him. "And in return, I will let go of your friend and colleague. And of you. It would hardly be fair of me to put your friend in your position, right?"

The magister pauzed and looked at the regulator before him. It all had went better than he had hoped. He had left the initiative at the lawbringer, only knowing too well that the man would be forced to give up anything as soon as he would be aboard his ship. This man had come to him with a set goal in mind, unwilling to let it slip through his fingers. He would have agreed to just about anything, especially when he had thrown down his arms and given up violence as an option. And now he would benefit to the fullest of this useful fool.

"One of my servants will bring you to a cogitator station. I have prepared a... questionnaire. Especially for you, regulator. You will answer the questions." Graz could see the other man relax a little. They always did when they thought they had regained even the smallest bit of control over the situation. But in this case, he needed his counterpart to be utterly lost, so that he would comply completely. Graz had no other plans for this stooge after this round of negotiations, so there was no reason to leave him with any selfconfidence or selfrespect. "I can see in your eyes that you think you have a new choice before you. Giving me true or false information... For some of the questions in the list, we already have the answer. The deal is cancelled if any of your answers prove to be wrong. And although we have no real friends among the Arbites, we're pretty sure that none of the questions require answers that are only known to those men and women from above your paygrade. Omitting information isn't an option either."

Graz could see how the little bit of hope died away and was replaced once more with resentment. If Elisabeth had been here, he would have betted her whether Willis' resentment was primarily directed at the magister or the regulator himself. It couldn't be pleasant sitting in that chair, knowing that you would have to betray your own side to save it. The thought made him smile.

 _'Time for a last little twist, little fish.'_

Graz beckoned at the servant who had stood silently a dozen metres from them between the first lines of library shelves; far enough not to overhear them, but close enough to come to his service. As the man approached, Graz stood up. The regulator might react badly on his last order and in that case, he wanted the advantage. "Oh. A propos. You do realize that until we conclude this deal, anything that happens out in the field is beyond my control, right?"

The message struck home hard. The resentment was pushed back in favour of anger and the regulator stood up, his fists clenched once more, his jaw firmly biting down and a little vein on his forehead pulsating violently. The servant slowed his step and was reaching for the concealed needle pistol that was part of the standard equipment of all personal servants of the magister. But Graz held up his hand and gave the regulator a polite and utterly insincere nod.

"Bring the regulator to his station. I am sure he will be quite busy for the next hour or so. Don't let anyone disturb him, but get someone to fix up his wound. When he's finished, escort him back to the surface." Graz said to the servant. With a dirty smile on his face, he then said the arbite farewell. "I'm positive we won't be seeing each other no more, regulator, so I bid you farewell and good luck on all your future endeavours." and with those words Graz turned around, feeling as if his luck had changed.


	48. Chapter 48: Raid on the mine

_+++5.153.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Pellenne, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Zagreb Mining Complex, Mine shaft RUX-34+++_

Lars looked over the damp pit where hundreds of miners were struggling with their equipment, carving rock and metal alike out of the earth itself. The shaft lay at the far east side of the Zagreb complex and it was one that had one of the highest humidities of the entire site. The machinery the workers employed here was more suited for the more arid conditions at the center and west of the complex, but he had been told by one of the lower ranking techpriests that the Adeptus Mechanicus deemed the higher humidity within the safe range of the primal and secondary efficiency-equation. And Lars suspected that even if it didn't, the magos of the isolated planet wouldn't find it easy to get his mechadendrites on better suited equipment. Lars could only praise himself lucky for his little job as overseer and not as a miner. He only had to take care he didn't slip on the damp, rocky underground, while the miners had to be careful not to pierce themselves with their mining equipment as it slipped on the wet stone.

His shift was nearly over and no major accidents had occured. It looked like everybody would go to their barracks quietly today. Which made him think of his assignment for tonight. He was about to approach his first techpriest here. It had taken Lars quite some time to identify one which had reason to be disloyal to the Adeptus Mechanicus, but this one had been placed here after he had cocked something up quite thoroughly. And now he was the overseer of the elevators at mine shaft KHU-02, doing a job that was assigned to techadepts or even common workers with a knack for machine spirits.

The shift signal blared over the shaft and Lars could see how several thousand workers started making their way out of the shaft. Lars moved to one of the entrances of the trainstation where most of them would be headed. The worker's barracks were a dozen miles to the west and there was a train that would take them. Coming at the steel tourniquets he was rejoined by another enforcer, an older man that reminded him of the late Svensson. Morgan was a pious follower of the Emperor and was one of the guys that was actually good at his job. Instead of reverting to violence for every little incident, he let his voice and stare do most of the work and kept his shock baton mostly hanging at his side. Although Lars enjoyed a good relationship with the man - it was hard not to like him with his somewhat sarcastic sense of humour - he hadn't had brought him in on his little recruitment scheme. He just didn't have the heart to take the man down onto a path of heresy.

As hundreds of wet and soiled miners passed him by, Lars was sunken in thoughts about his meeting with the techpriest. A sharp poke of Morgan in his side made him look up. "Looks like we have trouble on our hands, Christian. By the throne, I had hoped it would be an easy shift for a change." Lars looked past the man's pointing finger to the end of the station. He could only see some dust clouds and heard a few annoyed cries of some miners. "Let us hope nothing too serious." Lars replied, "Come on. Let's have a look."

Lars waded through the stream of workers before him, Morgan in tow behind him. As they approached over the rough and worn down rockcrete road next to the station, the yelling became more intense and Lars could discern some fine cursing from several miners. But the mass of miners that was still pouring into the railyard obscured the vision of the two overseers on whatever was happening further down the road.

"That doesn't sound too good, Christian. Hurry up, before it escalates. Taking apart a few hotheads is far easier than breaking up the entire morning shift as they start fighting amongst themselves!" Lars nodded his approval and quickened his pace, unholstering the shock baton and holding it over his head to make sure that the miners before him would make place. Although the miners were also hearing the shouting, the direct presence of the overseers was enough to make room and let them through. Morgan's small walkie vox unit crackled and beeped. Probably another duo of overseers reporting the disturbance and Lars could indeed see another set of shock batons above the dirty yellow helmets of the miners about thirty meters before him. Morgan didn't bother answering the vox. His own walkie could only receive. Lars hadn't offered to fix it because he didn't want to give away much about himself. And the Mechanicus didn't bother to replace halfbroken units.

They were now approaching the center of the disturbance and Lars could hear the noise of groundcar engines. Which was peculiar as only a very limited number of people in the Zagreb complex had access to this mode of transportation. As Morgan and Lars moved closer, they could see a clearing in the mass before them. Their fellow overseers had already reached it, since their shock batons were no longer visible. Then, suddenly, a series of shots were fired. Lars didn't recognize the sound, but the rhytm indicated a fully automatic weapon. And by the sound of it, it was a far heavier calibre than the regular autogun. The crowd around him exploded in panic with miners fleeing in all directions. Through the jumble of bodies, Lars caught a glimpse of two bodies laying on the surface. Their wounds were terrible, but apart from the timing of the attack, the shock baton that was laying next to one of the bodies made it easy enough to identify them as the two overseers who went in first.

 _'They are here for you Akira. Just like on Desoleum.'_

"Run! Now!" Lars yelled over the noise of the fleeing miners. When he turned around to follow his own command, he could see that Morgan hadn't awaited his command and was already plowing his way through the mass. He yelled in return where they should go, but Lars didn't have the time to formulate anything coherent. The engines of the ground cars behind him were gunned and he could hear them approaching. Only seconds later, he could hear how a worker was run over, followed by more and more of the wet thumping noises of bodies being violently pushed aside or trampled. Which only served to spur Lars on. His heart was racing, but so were his thoughts.

 _'They know you're with the overseers. They know you were doing a shift here. And they know that your only way out is the train.'_

Lars looked at the railwaystation. Most of the men and women around him were fervently fighting to get in and - Lars supposed - busy conquering a place in one of the carriages. There was no way the men that were after him would let the train leave. And as soon as they made it clear they were looking for the overseers... Lars could only imagine what would happen.

Before him, Morgan was doing exactly the same thing as the mass; trying to get into the railyard. Lars forced himself to catch him. "Not that way Morgan! Let's head south!" Morgan gave him a surprised look over his shoulder, but nevertheless changed direction. Still Lars' mind was racing. If they wouldn't find him on the train, they would look elsewhere. And everywhere they went where there would be other workers, they would be given up. So, Lars looked for a place where they would be truly alone. Which wasn't easy as thousands of workers were looking for refuge. The railyard was out and so was the mineshaft as a large part of the workshift had turned around and were looking for refuge in the tunnels and corridors. Then, Lars eye fell on the rusty watertower next to the cliffside. It would get them out of view and wouldn't be crowded with miners. With another shout, Lars redirected their course and ran for his life.

It had gone like Lars had expected. Another two ground cars had come in from the northwest and had stormed the maglev loc at the front of the train. There had been no remorse or hesitation from the men fighting their way to the control room of the heavy locomotive, although it had been less noisy since they were carrying needle rifles. The men who were coming in from the east were far more rowdy and Lars had spotted one of them carrying some kind of heavy bolter, an issue that should have been mounted on a pinacle on top of a Rhino. They had cut down several miners trying to get in the railyard, but they mostly lashed out when they got a lock on one of Lars' fellow overseers.

Morgan had started panicking and Lars had tried to calm the man down as best as he could. They were laying flat on one of the platforms interconnecting the service ladders leading to the top of the water tower, only partly concealed by the metal beams supporting the large iron tank at the top. The old man had had another fit when the thugs had activated the railyard loudhailer system. "We mean you miners no harm." a metallic sounding voice had echoed over the terrain. "We are only looking for your overseers. Surrender them to us and no harm will come to you. If you refuse, you will share their fate."

It had taken less than ten seconds before the first overseer had been thrown out of one of the cars. And less than a minute before they were all jousted out of the train. At least, Lars thought that they were all thrown out, because when they had all been killed, the armed men turned their attention to the mineshaft. They used the same trick and sure enough those overseers that had taken refuge in the mine shafts and were in the company of a bunch of miners were all turned over to be shot. The mine shaft was a far larger area than the railyard so the whole operation had taken more than an hour and Lars had had the opportunity to study the behaviour of the enemy.

They seemed to be highly profesionnal, not wasting time, ammo or effort on cruelty or torture. They didn't seem to particularly enjoy terrorizing the miners on the train or in the shaft. They were focused on one goal solely: killing every overseer present. But Lars knew better. They were looking for one overseer in particular. One of the thugs was carrying a dataslate and each time his companions brought him a body, he compared its face against a pict on his slate. Lars would bet all of his thrones that it was a pict of his face that the man was looking at.

"Looks like they are getting a bit frustrated." Lars whispered as he saw the man with the dataslate kick the last body that had been brought to him. It was the first thing he had said in over an hour. It surprised Morgan as he could feel the man laying beside him jolted a little. Luckily the man managed to keep his silence, but two minutes later, the man spoke up. "You know what's going on, don't you Christian?" "No. Why would you frakking say that Morgan? I can just see that this guy is getting pissed." The other man went silent, but after half a minute, he questioned Lars again. "Don't lie to me Christian. You knew what they were doing from the start. Has this anything to do with your extracurricular activities?" Lars slowly looked aside. "Shut up, Morgan... I've got no idea what they are doing here." Lars could see that Morgan didn't like his answers. "Frak you, Christian. It looks like they have every other overseer laying before them, face down against the rock. Only you and me remain. You're the new guy. You're talking to all kinds of people and you knew what was going on the moment they put down two of our colleagues."

Lars stared at the old man. Two grey eyes looked back at him from under two thick greyish eyebrows. The skin around his eyes was wrinkled from countless hours of watching the miners toil and sweat beneath him. On a little golden chain around his neck hung a tiny idol of the Emperor Saviour. Lars tried to determine where Morgan was going with this, because if he didn't shut up quickly, they might attract the attention of the kill squad below. The look he got from Morgan was partly exasperation and partly condamnation. As if the man couldn't decide whether he was mostly shocked by the killings or angry at the man that had brought these men to his mining shaft.

"This has nothing to do with the talks I had, but perhaps my past has caught up with me." Lars whispered. With a look on the golden idol, Lars continued. "I have prayed to the Emperor that I could leave my deeds behind me. And for a moment it seemed like He had heard me. But now, I think He's telling me I need to deal with my own mess. And I'm sorry that our friends and colleagues had to suffer for that. But don't deny me my chance to make it right with Him, now. So shut up and let me think."

Lars gave Morgan another firm stare and he could see that he had convinced him. Some sort of resignation fell over him and he redirected his attention to the scene below. Lars felt relieved and turned his attention to his problem. Armed with his shock baton and accompanied by a single ally, the tactical situation was pretty desperate for them. He had counted about twenty armed men and they were carrying better equipment than a HWMV squad. A look on his chrono learned him that the train was only supposed to leave now, so unless one of the techpriests in the railyard sign house had called this in to central command of the Zagreb complex, it would still take some time before they became aware of the current situation. And if these guys were any good, they had cut the hardline before doing their little show. Lars doubted these men would have been sloppy.

Still, if he wanted to escape - Lars had no intention of fighting these men - he needed to get backup as soon as possible. Rolling back on his side, he faced Morgan once more and whispered:

"Give me the walkie, Morgan."  
"What?... You know the thing is broken."  
"Just give it to me."

Morgan carefully detached the vox unit from his belt, making sure that the thing wouldn't fall down the metal stairs which would definitely give away their position. Lars took it and rolled on his back, already taking off the cover of the little apparatus. Once more he praised himself lucky that he had at least picked up a minimum of insight in the working of machine spirits back on Rexon. Without equipment it would be a pain in the ass to fix the little contraption, but it was his only way to get a signal out to command.

A quarter of an hour later Lars had managed to reconnect a few wires, but when he checked for a connection, he only got static. The men below had become more restless by the minute and when a few of the miners had come off the train and had started asking questions, they had been answered in bullets. Three more corpses didn't seem to bother them. Five minutes ago, they had gathered around the leader, who had started explaining another plan. Six of his men were now walking to the last carriage. The man with the heavy bolter and his autostabilizing harness, remained at a distance and kept the barrel of the fearsome weapon trained on the last wagon.

"Christian. You got to see this." Morgan whispered. Lars looked up from his work and squinted to see what was happening. The six thugs started shouting at one of the doors of the last carriage. After a minute or so, a line of twenty miners, of all ages marched out of the carriage and onwards to the service road before the railyard. At the same time, the man with the dataslate had switched the loudhailers back on. A shrill peeping noise echoed through the mining shaft and the large hall of the railyard. "Attention. Christian Haraldson. We know you are here and we know we haven't found you. We're giving you one minute to come out of hiding. For each minute that passes afterwards, we will execute one of the miners here. And as you can see, there are plenty of them!"

The leader cut the channel, resulting in another atonal noise blaring through the system and it seemed the mineshaft had never been more quiet. The men and women in the open mine shaft and on the train held their breath, almost as one. Only after half a minute or so the silence was broken by one of the miners that had been taken off the train by the thugs. The man had fallen on his knees and started pleading with one of the armed men before him. A casual backslap was all he got in return. Lars didn't dare to look at his colleague beside him, and continued to stare at the scene when Morgan spoke up.

"Christian. They are not bluffing. Get down there and end this." But Lars had averted his eyes from the scene beneath him and was working once more on the walkie. Morgan's tone grew angry. "You think they're bluffing? You stupid frak?" "Shut the frak up, Morgan or you'll betray our position." Lars whispered back. "I'm not going out there to be killed." Lars could feel Morgan's eyes burning on his face, but he didn't budge. The silence stretched on, until the sounds of fear and anguish came from the miners. Needle rifles don't make a lot of noise, but a couple of thousand miners seeing one of their own being executed before them, does. Lars could easily imagine the mixed feeling of fear and anger that was going through their ranks. Beside him, he could hear a gasp and a short prayer to the Emperor.

"If you're not going, I will, Christian." Now, Lars did look up from his work. He only had to reattach the battery. The beginning of a solution was upon them. "I'll go down, and tell them that you're not here." Morgan continued. Lars felt a new knot in his stomach. He laid a hand on Morgan's back. He opened his mouth to stop him. But the other man was already moving. Still, Lars tried to halt him. "They won't listen to you. They'll force you to tell them... You're... You're throwing away your life." Lars whispered hurried. "You're just scared that it won't work. Or that they'll find you once they see me." Morgan said, now looking down on Lars. He had a stern look in his eyes, but it faded as he took a step backwards. "It's alright Christian. I understand. But I can't let those people die."

Lars wanted to plea, convince him that it was no use. But the sound of the crowd anticipating another execution reached them at the same time. "If this doesn't work..." Morgan added, but he didn't finish and grabbed hold of the watertower's service ladder. Just before his head disappeared under the steel platform they had been laying on, he whispered. "If this doesn't work, I'm counting on you Christian."

Lars clicked the battery in place. _'A waste. A damned waste, Akira.'_ He pushed the send button of the walkie. _'If their new tactic wouldn't work, they would stop.'_ Lars whispered in the mouthpiece. "This is overseer Christian Haraldson, number 8556-9663, come in control." He rolled back on his belly to look at the scene below. Two corpses were laying down before the thugs. And it would only be moments before they would get Morgan in view. _'We had a solution ready. What a frakking waste Akira.'_ But as no reply came, Lars looked back at the walkie. He checked the channel. It was correct. "Control, come in." He tried again. No reply came. Below, Morgan stepped out from behind the watertower base. Lars checked the walkie unit once more. The send button, the antenna, the power signal, the frequency selector and finally the mouthpiece. Everything looked normal, except that the mouthpiece hung a bit loose. One of the thugs started shouting. Lars inspected the part from close by. The protective mesh around the wires to the mouthpiece had been torn. _'It never would have worked.'_ Desillusionised and trembling with disappointment and regret, he saw how Morgan closed the distance with his hands above his head. The needle rifles were aimed at him. The heavy bolter as well. The leader of the group held his hand up and checked the dataslate one final time. Morgan started shouting - Lars couldn't make out what - but the hand went down. The rifles went off and Morgan went down. _'Bastards... Stupid bastards.'_ Another hand signal and the man guarding the group of miners in the middle of the street, shot down another seven men, one after the other. The loudhailers tchirped and the monotone voice of the leader rang through the system once more. "Overseer Christian Haraldson. We know you are here. Having your friends tell us that you are not is a poor tactic. One for which these miners will pay for. We will now start executing these civilians each 30 seconds... Give yourself up and they will be spared."

Lars remained where he was. He had accepted that someone else would be paying the price. The steepness of that price, was not his to determine, but as the other men and women were given a neckshot, he could feel his heart ache each time a body hit the dirt. In under five minutes it was over. The thugs weren't even making an effort to respect the 30 second interval. The leader was getting more and more annoyed by the lack of results and when one of his men asked the obvious question as the last miner was executed, he was only rewarded with a scowling motion of his arm.

At this point, Lars half expected him to order another group of miners to be grabbed from the train, or to simply give up. Searching the terrain was hopeless. There were countless nooks and crannies where a person could hide, and although you needed to know your way around, it was even possible to slip from this mine shaft to another one via the subterranean network of tunnels. But the man clearly thought on a scale, bigger than Lars could imagine. The leader approached the man hauling the heavy bolter around and then used the loudhailer system to adress Lars once more. "You haven't complied with our wishes. I've tried to be reasonable. If you don't present yourself, we will open fire on the train."

Although Lars could see that dozens of miners were now scrambling to get out of the train, he knew it would be a massacre. And he had been willing to pay the price for his own safety and the completion of his mission. But with every step the man with the heavy weapon approached the entrance of the railyard, Lars' resolve took a hit. The man had taken up a position at the first platform, Lars could see from his elevated position and braced himself for the kick of the weapon, just when the walkie at his side crackled to life.


	49. Chapter 49: The departed

Lars grabbed the walkie and held it to his ear. It couldn't be command and none of the miners had this kind of equipment. It had to be someone from the outside, because if Lars' count was right, he was the last overseer remaining on site.

"Detail Anubis-2. Your mission is aborted. I repeat, your mission is aborted."

Lars looked befuddled at the vox apparatus. For a moment he thought he recognized the voice. The tone of the mission leader on site made it clear that he couldn't place it either. "Abort?... Who the frak is this?" Lars listened intently for the reply. The overseer's vox wasn't exactly state of the art and the line crackled and hissed softly, making it hard to properly identify someone. "My identity isn't your concern, Anubis leader. I'm giving you the order to abord, following protocol Q5. That should suffice."

The voice definitely was familiar, but Lars had a hard time accepting the facts. It was just impossible that Willis would be here. Since they had last seen each other and their reports had been filed for Arthur's office, nobody had heard from Lars. The fact that he had lost his alpha, had made it impossible to contact them. And Lars had spend many nights worrying about how to turn back in when his op was done. So there was no way Willis could have found him via the Arbites. There just was no trail for him to follow. In the meanwhile, the conversation between Willis and the thug leader continued.

"Look pal. I'm right in the middle of something. I'm instructed only to take orders of the lady. Whoever you are, you aren't in the gameplan." The mission leader sounded pissed off. "The plan has changed. The Q5 protocol should have given that away, you frak. Now, pack your bags and get to your extraction point." Clearly Willis was getting annoyed as well, but the mission leader stuck to his guns. "Frak no. Get the lady on the line and I'll listen." Willis sighed. "I'm the direct representative of the magister. Shut it and do as you're told. Or you'll have him to answer to." The thug leader fell silent, just as Lars' head started spinning.

 _'Willis? An operative? It can't be true, Akira.'_

But the answer of the leader only confirmed the hypothesis. The man gave a short answer of compliance and immediately he started shouting orders to the men. The thug with the heavy bolter swung his weapon away from the train carriages and they all scrambled to their vehicles. In under three minutes, their Chennai vehicles were driving away, going off road as they turned southwest towards the space port. A strange silence fell over mine shaft RUX-34. The line went dead as well, but Lars' thoughts didn't stop. Obviously, Willis had stopped the operation to kill him, but on the other hand, he seemed to be pretty deep in with whoever was after him. And thanks to the thugs' direct approach, every miner here would know that overseer Christian Haraldson was something special. The Adeptus Mechanicus would definitely want to have a chat with him about the reason why an entire equipe of their overseers had been killed.

 _'You've got to disappear, Akira. And you better make sure they don't go looking for you.'_

Lars could see how the first miners were stepping out of the train carriages, still unsure about the situation. From the shaft too, the first, braver miners appeared. Lars started moving and was just about to go down the service ladder when he changed his mind. Quickly, he dumped his belt, holster and shock baton, together with his uniform. He stashed them in a small alcove under the service platform he had been laying on. In his underclothes he descended from the watertower. He needed to be quick, but for now, the miners were still obsessed by the bodies laying on the street and weren't paying attention to whatever happened near the service buildings.

Once on the ground, Lars sprinted to one of the barracks where the SAR-equipment was stashed. Airtanks, stablights, ultralight cables and a few digging servitors were neatly ordened in the steel container. Protective fire suits were hanging in neat lines on an iron bar on his right hand side, but luckily there were also some normal suits laying on a bench. In his haste, Lars struggled getting the worker's fatigues on. Next, he needed to make sure the Mechanicus wouldn't come looking for him. The thugs might have backed up for now, but there was no reason not to think they would have another try later. But Lars was pretty sure that if Christian Haraldson wasn't found among the bodies the ruling techpriests would be on his neck as soon as one of the miners would have reported that they were looking for him. And with their control over Pellene, it was just a matter of days or even hours before they found him.

In his new disguise, Lars headed back out of the barracks. Once outside he kneeled down, smearing dirt over the front and the back of the new suit. Otherwise, he would stand out like a Mechanicus Magos in an Ecclesiarchy basilica among the rest of the miners. He could see that a few dozen miners were standing by some of the corpses of the overseers, perhaps considering their own part in the dead of these men and women. Another bunch was weeping and wailing near the twenty or so bodies of the miners that had been used to put the pressure on Lars. Lars had to force himself to walk slowly towards the body of Morgan. It laid quite a distance away from the majority of the corpses and no one had come to check on it yet. Lars tried to look hesitant, but realized that he was still moving far too quickly as he wanted to reach the body before anyone else.

Luckily, no one was really interested in Morgan and the majority of the miners hadn't even noticed that the man had been shot. So Lars could kneel next to the corpse, revealing the identitag that lay hidden under his uniform. Without much care for decorum, Lars swapped it for his own. The Mechanicus wouldn't spend time checking the identities beyond reading out the data on the identitag. For them, Christian Haraldson would be dead. And Morgan would just have gone missing. It wouldn't have been the first man that never turned up after a work shift. And that included overseers. Lars knew he was taking a risk with this. If the Mechanicus really took an interest, they would see to the ruse quickly enough. But if and when they did, Lars would hopefully be off world.

Standing back up, Lars couldn't help but mumble a soft prayer for the man. He had been one of the good guys. One of the countless millions that did his job, loyal to the Emperor and the Omnissiah. Once more, this could have been him. Lars cursed softly.

 _'What a frakking waste, Akira. Someone should pay for this.'_

And that someone had a clear name and face now. The more Lars thought about it, the more sense it made. If Willis had turned, he would have had all the information to find him. And if he had been turned, it wouldn't have been by a lowhive ganger dealing slaught. It would have been someone with considerable means and power. Still, Lars had fought and bled at Willis' side. Part of him wasn't ready to believe Willis was a turncoat.

Lars turned his attention to the situation at hand. Without any overseers available and the local techpriests too afraid to actually do anything, it seemed like they were all waiting for relief. Lars gave it half an hour, until the Mechanicus would start missing the train that would be used to send in the next shift. Till then, he should try to lay low. So with grave thoughs in his mind, he stepped towards the railyard, with every intention to blend in with the crowd.

* * *

 _+++5.154.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Pellenne, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Zagreb Mining Complex, RU-railyard No 4+++_

Lars' estimation about the moment the Mechanicus had noticed the absence of the train had been correct, but the Mechanicus had taken far more time to actually get things rolling again. The first sign of them had been a heavy TRAX-12 lorry, carrying an outfit of overseers and one middle cadre techpriest. They were pretty giddy when they arrived on site and they had expected something else entirely due to the lack of vox contact. When they were informed by the miners what had happened, Lars could see that their attitude didn't really improve. The contrary was true. Being shown all the corpses of the overseers made sure that these men immediately felt personally threatened. And Lars could imagine that the short talk, obviously in techno-lingua, between the techpriest of the control room and the one from the lorry was far from reassuring. The thugs were missing and enjoyed freedom of movement. Which meant that they could make another hit on any other mine shaft in the region if they so desired.

This all meant that the reconnaissance party was pretty hesitant in declaring the situation secure. Which meant that when the train with the miners finally left, darkness had set in. The mood on the train was downright depressed. Not so much because of the death of the miners - and definitely not that of the overseers - but more because the ranking techpriest had announced that tomorrow's shift would be maintained on schedule to minimize production losses. Which in turn meant that the miners would have a short night and only very limited time to eat and refresh themselves. Debarking from the train was therefore quite chaotic as all the miners wanted to reach their barracks as soon as possible. The lack of order served Lars well as it would cover his escape.

After the first ten miners had left the carriage before him, Lars rammed his shoulder into the man next to him and pressed himself through the door, together with an unusually tall woman. He stumbled onto the platform, but immediately held his head down. He had stolen one of the other miner's helmets so his face remained in the shadows. The arbite struggled with the mass and tried to reach one of the exits. He made sure that he turned away his head away from the pict capters that hung in the shadowry and gloomy railyard. He didn't feel like taking any chances. He threw a short look at the tower with the control room of the railway station standing next to the main entrance building. With its location close to the roof of the railyard, overlooking the platforms, it was the perfect vantage point to look over the disembarking miners. And to find a fugitive hiding among the masses.

Lars' heart skipped a beat when he effectively saw someone standing on the service gantry that ran around the large plasglass windows of the control room. Immediately he turned away his head and followed the human stream of weary miners. Just when he was about to disappear into the entrance building, he took a step to the side, hiding in the shadow of one of the butressed support pillars of the railway station. For appearances, he started going through his pockets, but he used the time well to take a closer look at the figure standing outside the control room. It definitely wasn't a techpriest. The man wore a suit of armour of some kind, but Lars doubted that it was one of the thugs. They hadn't enjoyed the cooperation of the Mechanicus before, so there was no reason to think that they had been invited up at that critical location. Lars squinted his eyes, but just under the dirty glass roof, without sunlight, there hardly was any light that pierced the darkness. But when, by chance or by fate, the man took a few steps on the gantry, Lars knew who was standing there. It was the step of a trained officer, and the slight bend of his right shoulder, could only mean that Walther Willis himself was standing there.

With a push of his shoulder, Lars rejoined the mass of miners and left the railway station. The stream of miners split into three smaller groups, following the three access ways to the square before the station. Lars found himself another hiding spot. Or at least somewhere he wouldn't stick out like a sore thumb.

 _'So, he's here for you, Akira. Now what?'_

Lars didn't have the clearance to get to the control tower. Or at least not as a miner. With Morgan's identitag he might be able to pull it off. But even if he got up there, it seemed he didn't have a lot of options. Willis was better equipped and would have been officially identified as a member of the Adeptus Arbites. Lars didn't doubt that the techpriests mostly felt resentment for such an intrusion on their terrain, but if the shit would hit the fan, they would definitely back up an arbite over some random overseer. Lars needed an edge. And again it seemed the Emperor was looking out for him. Only five metres further one of the overseers he had recruited walked by. Lars didn't doubt for a second.

"Mullhaney. Pssst. Mullhaney" Lars whispered. The man looked up and tried to pierce the darkness where Lars was hiding. He started reaching for his stablight, but Lars intervened. "Mullhaney. It's Haraldson. Leave the stab." Mullhaney visibly relaxed and joined Lars in the dark spot right next to one of the large statues adorning the front of the entrance building. "What the frak, Christian? Has it begun? That business at the shaft?" Mullhaney asked in a hushed voice. Although it was dark enough, Lars could see the enthusiasm in Mullhaney's blue eyes that looked at him from under a thick crop of ginger hair. "No," the arbite answered, "That's not it. In fact, I might have to disappear. But don't worry I'll leave you another contact." Lars took the iron chain of his dragon hanger in two fingers and lifted it slightly. "The longer the wait, the greater the victory, Mullhaney." The man clearly was disappointed. Lars had come to know him as an impatient and rather impulsive man, so he tried to sooth him. "However, I need you to do something for me, Mullhaney. Perhaps if you succeed, I'll be able to stay after all."

The freckled man nodded. "Alright, Christian. Just tell me what to do. You know I won't let you down." Lars laid his hand on the man's shoulder. "I know you won't... I need you to deliver a message. You've got something to write?" Mullhaney went through his pockets and produced a filthy little notebook and a little stump of a pencil. Lars started to scribble down a few words and numbers. "I need you to take this to the man watching over the platforms, just outside the control room of the railyard." Mullhaney tore the piece of paper out of the notebook and put it away. "You can count on me, Christian. I'll make sure that he gets it. Anything else you want me to do?" Lars shook his head. "No. That's enough. Don't linger. Just give him the paper and try to get away. If he starts asking questions, just tell him you got paid a throne to deliver the message. If he asks you to describe me, do it. Just make sure that he believes you have nothing to do with me, alright? That guy isn't a nobody, so watch your step."

Lars tried to impress the importance on Mullhaney, but had to leave it at that. When the station would have cleared and Willis wouldn't have found him, he wouldn't spend another minute there. Mullhaney just gave him a broad smile and a mock salute. "I'll make sure he gets this," he said as he gently padded his breast pocket, "but doesn't get me. You can count on me." And with those words, the gingerhead turned around and went to find Willis. Lars himself turned around as well and made himself ready to face his former comrade.

* * *

 _+++5.154.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Pellenne, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Zagreb Mining Complex, Habdistrict Epsilon-4 "Poorman's alley"+++_

Willis was standing next to a heavy garbage container in a dark alleyway between two habblocks, both perhaps ten stories high. There were hardly any street lights in this district and the back alley certainly wasn't an exception. The only light that fell down, came from two or three windows were the occupants had lit a lantern. Willis didn't really like the place. You could only escape from the narrow street by the two ends or by one of the numerous fire ladders to the roofs of the habblocks. It made him feel oppressed, but he understood Lars would want to meet somewhere quiet and out of sight.

He had been quite surprised to have been given instructions by a filthy looking overseer. The ginger had grunted something in the Pellenne version of low gothic and had pressed a dirty piece of paper in his hand. Willis had stopped the man and asked what his business was, but the man had grumbled some more and Willis had only understood that he was just a messenger that got paid in beer. Before Willis had been able to ask another question, the man had already turned around and had started descending the stairwell of the tower. On the paper there were only some coordinates and a timestamp. And the initiales L.A.. Enough for Willis to excuse himself from the company of techpriests. They had been happy to see him go, so no questions were asked.

Willis swept the sweat of his brow. Pellenne was a warm planet and even though the sun had been under a long time already, the heat lingered. He checked his chrono and saw that Lars was late. He hoped nothing had happened to him. Or that the magister had broken his word. But that seemed unlikely. After the deal had been struck and Willis had lived up to his part of the bargain, the Cartel representatives had been nothing if not helpful. The only group that had struggled was the kill squad, but they too had pulled out.

Willis was disturbed in his thoughts when a small rock fell onto the lid of the container next to him. He looked around, trying to find Lars. It had to be him. But he didn't see anyone in the alley. A second pebble fell on the lid and Willis thought he could hear someone hissing. He looked up and sure enough, there was someone standing on the roof of the habblock across, near a fire ladder. The figure beckoned to come up. Willis didn't hesitate and started scaling the ladder. Topside, he could see a figure standing right in front of him. A portable glowglobe stood at his feet, partially covered by a piece of cloth. The man wore miner's fatigues, but Willis recognized Lars in an instant. He smiled broadly, but in return he only got a stern look.

"Lars. Emperor be thanked. You're safe." Willis started, but the other man was unmoved. "You've got a lot to explain, Walther, and you better make it fast." Lars replied. Willis was taken aback. He didn't really understand. But from the looks of his friend, it seemed like he was dead serious, so he didn't waste his breath on any questions. "Well. After we last saw each other, I was able to apprehend Hazard. We found out he was in league with the Kerviel Cartel. Found a lot of potential contracts on a datacard. One was for your head. They seemed to know where to find you, so I set out to help you. Well. And here I am." Lars frowned. "Keep talking!"

Willis didn't understand. He took a step forwards towards Lars and said as much. "What the frak, Lars? What is this? I've been running through half the sector to save your hide, and this is what you have to say, now we meet again? I don't understand." Lars took a half step backwards to maintain his distance from Willis. "Care to tell me just how you managed to get the Cartel of my back? I'm sure they aren't big on the Adeptus Arbites. And don't try to pretend you're not till your neck into their business. I heard you on the vox." Lars' gaze didn't soften for a second.

Willis held his hands up, unconsciously trying to show that he had nothing to hide. "You're right. It was me who called them off. And I'm not happy how that went down, believe me. If I would have had a chance to take them out directly, believe me I would. But it's just me. And the means these people have? You wouldn't believe it. It would have been madness to aim for a direct confrontation. You would have been killed." Willis could see Lars relax a bit. And now Willis understood. If he would have been in Lars' place, treason would have come to his mind as well. "You didn't think... You didn't think I had joined up with them, did you?" Willis smiled. It broke the tension. He could see how Lars' shoulders went down a bit and his cramped posture disappeared. Willis looked around and half jokingly, half serious asked why Lars had picked this spot. The answer was what he had expected, but even though the tension was alleviated, Willis still felt a chill running down his spine when Lars explained that he was without arms and that his only option would have been to throw Willis of the roof.

"So, now what?" Willis asked. "How are you doing with your op?" But when he looked back at Lars he could see that in his friend's eyes the laughter had fled. "Before we get into that," the other man said, "Let me first tell you that I'm very happy to hear that you aren't on their payroll, believe me." Willis could see that Lars' words were genuine, but he could already feel where this was going. Another chill went down his back. And then came the inevitable question. "But you still need to tell me how you made the Cartel quit their endeavours to kill me." Willis remained silent. "If you haven't taken them out and you haven't forced them to do it, I can only imagine..."

The words hung between them. Willis stared at Lars. He couldn't say that he was proud of what he had done. But to him, it had seemed that the balance had been well in his favour. He hoped that Lars would see it the same way. "They proposed me a deal. Your safety, and my safety for that matter, in return for information." he finally said. "What information?" "Just codes, security passwords, protocols... Nothing we can't change afterwards. No information that could hurt us in the long run."

Willis saw that Lars was digesting the information. Although Lars could usually keep his facial expressions in check, Willis could see different emotions fighting for dominance in his eyes. He could see gratitude, anger, frustration... and fear. "Not on the long term..." the arbite echoed Willis' words. "Yes, Lars." Willis confirmed carefully, "As soon as I get in touch with Frank, this will all go away." Willis studied Lars' reaction. He was shocked to see that now the principal emotion visible was disappointment. "You think they don't know that, Walther? You think they struck you a deal that would favour you?" Willis scowled. "Well, it definitely was in your best interests Lars." he retorted angrily. He knew this wasn't a good situation, but still. The codes, the protocols, ... everything he had traded away was information that could be changed. Lars' life however, once lost, couldn't be restored. "Frak, man! What would you have me do? Just throw away your life? Just leave you at the mercy of these thugs and criminals? Abandon you? Frak no!" he continued, gesticulating heavily and stamping with his feet. "What codes did you give, Walther?" the other man asked. "Does it even matter? Frak you Lars! I've been running my ass off to save you. I've fought that frak's right hand and barely escaped with my life. So what if I gave them our encryption keys. So what if they now have access to our meta-data. It's all beside the frakking point! The point is that your life was on the frakking line. And now here we are! You accuse me of treachery and I frakking get it! But now you need to stop! Perhaps I was wrong, Emperor knows, but some gratitude is in order, for frak sake!"

It was the last mistake Willis would make. Due to his shouting, he missed the whispered words of the man before him. "You put at risk everyone and everything. That's high treason." And due to his stomping around, he also missed the moment Lars started to move. With a bull rush, Lars rammed his shoulder in Willis side, making him lose his balance. A moment later he was plummeting to the ground, ten stories lower. He only managed to blurt out a surprised scream before a dull, wet sound marked the end of Walther Willis.

Looking over the edge, his voice all choked up, Lars finally whispered. "You are hereby condamned and sentenced to death."


	50. Chapter 50: Consequences

_+++5.256.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Nixus Secund, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Above the Garmus Plateau - Screaming Suzy+++_

'A beautiful day.' Arthur Belloran thought smiling as he looked through the armourcrys windows of the cockpit of his transport, although there wasn't much to be seen. Thick snow flakes were swept against the windscreen and he could barely make out their destination. The Valkyrie was struggling with the heavy crosswinds and the pilots had been extremely weary when they had heard that the judge had planned to set out that day. It was anything but a beautiful day.

But Arthur Belloran's evaluation of the day wasn't based on the weather, but rather on his personal prospects. After almost three months of digging, he had finally been able to locate a major transport hub of one of the leading smugglers in the sector: the Highfield Cartel. The information they had gained from Shaneshabad had only brought them to Nixus Secund, so Frank had warned him that progress would be slow. But now at least, they were finally taking some direct action to put a heavy dent in their operations. Behind Arthur's personal Valkyrie, the Screaming Suzy, another five transports were flying, and above the formation a trio of reinforced gunships accompanied them. It wasn't nearly everything Arthur got aboard of the _Revenge_ , but it should be more than enough to take out their target.

The hub was laying next to a rock plateau a good 1.200 clicks to the south of Spirus Blanca. It was well hidden in the cliffside and the Cartel clearly had favoured the location for it being hard to find - it was practically impossible to spot from orbit - and not for it's easy approach by air. Arthur's pilots, all trained by the Imperial Navy, had said that it would be a rocky ride to the complex as they would have to descend into the canyons leading to the base. Which was why Arthur was sitting in the cockpit. He wouldn't let such an experience slip through his fingers.

He would also be the first to land on the base. Their reports indicated that, although well armed, the opposition would be relatively small in numbers. With the element of surprise, they would definitely have the upper hand. Apart from their goons, the cartel also counted heavily on combat servitors, which was why in one of the transports a bunch of nervous techpriests had been strapped in their seats, partly to make sure they wouldn't get hurt during the turbulent flight, partly to avoid them starting to protest when the Valks would be pushed over their normal speed and G-force limits. The cog boys would be dropped off at the main control room of the base and had the task of shutting down the combat servitors remotely.

The judge himself would first secure the barracks and would then head to the main depot where they suspected the leader of the complex resided. That way, they would have cut the head of the enemy snake and the facility would fall into their hands.

"Starting our descend. Going to altitude 200. Everybody brace." the pilot said over the on board vox. "Yes! You all hold on to your knickers, chaps! We're going in! For Justice and the Emperor!" Belloran screamed enthusiasticly through the vox.

* * *

 _+++5.256.987.M41+++_  
 _+++Nixus Secund, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Garmus Plateau - Highfield base+++_

"Our attempts, following protocol TD-5, have been succesful, praise the Omnissiah. Combat servitors connected to the defense grid are in code yellow. We will proceed with rewriting their targetting protocols. Adept Torhenus out."

All was going according to plan. The judge flicked off the power to his sword, ceasing the soft crackling noise and dousing the weak blueish light that surrounded the powered blade. He looked over his troops. They had incurred minimal losses. Their tactical surprise had been used to the fullest, but even cornered and at a disadvantage, the Cartel troops had fought to the end. No one had surrendered, something Arthur found strange, but absolute loyalty in a criminal organisation wasn't unheard off.

"Judge Belloran? I think we can use you here. We're at the docking bay. You need to see this." The judge acknowledged the message and started jogging towards his destination. He went through the barracks where he could see left and right room after room with neat rows of bunkbeds, far more tidy than he had come to expect from criminals. Another sign that the Highfield Cartel was far more professional than the average crime band. When he arrived at the docking bay, he could see his squad standing near the large hangar doors leading to the depot where the Cartel's transports would be stored. He crossed the large cavernous room in less than two minutes, increasing his speed, as he saw the man wave him closer urgently.

"What's the situation chaps?" he asked them when he came to their position, not even breathing heavily. "Well, your honour. We're not really sure. There are some things that don't add up." the sergeant of the squad told him. Without further explanation, he pointed his heavy stablight at the next hall, revealing more than a dozen tailwings of various transports. Next to the heavy sliding doors, Arthur could see the figure of one of the Highfield troopers, a prisoner the sergeant had taken. From his passing gaze, the judge could tell that the man was close to panic, but when the Adeptus Arbites raided your base of operations and you belonged to the culprits, you had every reason to panic.

"Well chap? All I see is a load of transports. Nothing unexpected, right?" The sergeant shook his head. "Yes your honour, but the number of transports doesn't match with the briefing note. And there are so many here that they aren't even properly docked." The judge already wanted to explain to the sergeant that briefing notes were far overrated, but held back as a tiny little detail made him pauze. Just at the edge of the circle of light of the stablight, Arthur recognized a red symbol on one the flanks of the heavy lifters, meaning that it was equipped for volatile cargo. He could also see that the transports weren't lined up neatly against the wall to match the power stations and promethium lines build in the hangar deck. After all the signs of order and discipline, this mess didn't really fit. He took a step forwards to the depot, but stopped dead in his track as he could hear the prisoner gasp.

"You're right sergeant. Something is off... Secure the hangar, but take care. I don't think we've won the day just yet." The judge immediately switched to vox to reach all his troops. "Attention. This is the judge. Remain alert. We've got reason to believe the base has been further reinforced. Belloran out." Arthur trusted his troops well enough to leave them to their business. Rather than trying to micromanage his squad leaders, he turned to a task far more useful. "You!" he yelled at the prisoner, that was sitting next to the large sliding door, "Tell me what this is about! Now!" But the man only spared him a short glance and then turned his head to look over his shoulder, desperately trying to see what was going on in the hangar. What would have angered another man, only made Arthur more curious. He took another look at the man. He wasn't badly injured, but still he was shivering, and the fervour with which he was trying to discern what was going on... One more thing that didn't add up. The judge approached the man and flicked his power sword back on, ramming it into the wall, an inch left from his head. The static electricity tugged at the man's hair and as it stood upright it burned up against the power field. The stench of burning hair filled Arthur's nose, but the man faced him only briefly. That short look had been enough though. There was a fear in him that didn't originated from the appearance of a judge.

Just as Arthur stood back up, one of the men in the hangar cried out in surprise. Arthur didn't even have the time to see what was going on, because the next moment, the entire left side of the docking bay was shrouded in a light blueish vapor. In a reflex, Arthur slammed down his visor, but on the vox he could hear that not everybody had been equally alert. The sound of retching and coughing filled the airwaves but right next to him, the judge could see the effects of the toxic cloud first hand. The prisoner started choking and tried to wriggle free. Seconds later he started yelling, screaming his lungs out, and hadn't his hands been bound behind his back, he would have started flailing around. The judge could see how one of the men in the depot had dropped his weapons and was clawing at his throat. The man fell to the floor and started spasming. The prisoner too had slumped to the ground and was now violently shaking back and forth, crashing his head into the rockcrete wall behind him. All around him, Arthur could see that the pain induced by the toxin was enormous and inhuman.

The judge turned his attention away from the spasming man. Clearly, the vapour could serve as much as a weapon of the enemy as a distraction. However, the preysense sight didn't reveal anything in the blue fog that was now spread out over the entire docking bay and hangar. The judge tried the vox. "This is the judge. We've just been hit by nerve gas. The enemy is still around. Squad leaders, report!" The first man to report was the sergeant commanding the squad guarding their own transports. "Omega team here. Nothing to see out here, your honour." Only seconds later, a second man came on the vox. "Delta team reporting. We've been hit by the gas, but managed to avoid inhaling it, your honour. What are your orders, sir?" But Belloran waited a bit longer. He expected at least two more responses, but no one else reported in. The feeling that the enemy had anticipated their raid, was now becoming a certainty.

 _'And if you know we're coming, you sure prepare to finish things.'_

"All teams, pull back and meet me at the control tower: Torhenus' position. Watch your six. We're not just done yet." Although they were now on the back foot, there wasn't a single fibre in Arthur Belloran's body that thought of retreat. That changed seconds later though.  
His only warning had been a metallic pang behind his back. As Arthur was more than alert due to the circumstances, he turned around with his blade in a defensive position. And that was the only thing that saved his life, because a second later, the prisoner ran himself on his power sword, screaming a wordless cry as the electricity fried him from the inside out. He noticed how the man was missing a hand, which he must have ripped off himself as he freed himself of the manacles chaining him to a support beam from the hangar. Revulted, the judge kicked the lifeless husk of a body from his sword and he was already busy scanning for more threats. And sure enough, he could see how his own men were scrambling up from the rockcrete floor of the depot and started walking towards him. "New plan, chaps. Pull back to the birds. Omega. Watch the skies!"

The judge hadn't wanted to retreat to the birds for two reasons. The first one was that his mission wasn't completed. The second that any decent ambush would also take care of the transports that had flown them in. Now, presented with his own men turning rogue, things had changed. Arthur knew enough of nerve toxins that he didn't freak out on the spot, but he knew it would be a harsh blow to the morale of the survivors and it only made the opposition stronger.

"Adept Torhenus. It is time to pull back, my boy. Do you copy?" The techpriest answered immediately, true to his ideals of efficiency. "Affirmative, your honour. We will cease our efforts to..." The droning voice of Torhenus stopped and as the judge started making his way to the open space outside of the docking bay, keeping his sword at the ready seeing his former servants were readying themselves to charge him. "Torhenus?"

The vox channel was still open and the judge could hear how blurts of binary were exchanged between the techpriests at the control tower. The closest of his gassed men started running at that moment and the judge stopped for a moment to catch him. Luckily for him, the men seemed to have forgotten their ranged weaponry, so he only had to deal with the raised shock maul. Arthur sidestepped the man and half expected to finish him off with a backhand slash from his sword, but unlike the frenzied prisoner, his former underling dodged the counterattack without much effort. Arthur Belloran smiled a wicked grin. There were only so many times when he could go all out and as the other troopers had started running, this would be one of those times. The first man crouched and jumped at him, using his shock maul more like a dagger than a club. Now, the judge concentrated a bit more and turned around his axis, avoiding the stab, only to literally disarm his assailant. The loss of a limb seemed enough to stop him for a moment and the judge quickly picked up the shock maul and assumed a defensive position.

"Torhenus, report now, or I will personally come and jack you to my dataslate!" the judge bellowed into his voxcapter. "... Affi-i-i-i-irmati-i-i-i-ive..." came the response, but the adept's voice was distorted and a metallic echo could be heard as if the vox box of Torhenus was stuttering. The first men of the second wave reached the judge's position and the fight intensified. Seconds later blood and gore were splattered all over the hangar's floor and Arthur thanked himself for picking up the shock maul. Although not as good as a combat shield, the weapon was a fine enough instrument to fend off flanking attacks. He slashed open one of his former comrades, his sword cutting through the ribcage like a hot knife slicing through butter, and stunned another one with a jab of the maul to the stomach.

"...Adeptus Arbi-i-i-i-ites secu-u-u-u-urity proto-o-o-o-o-o-o-oco-o-o-o-o-ols being over-r-r-r-r-rwri-i-i-i-i-itten. Cr-i-i-i-i-itica-a-a-a-al da-a-a-ama-a-a-a-..." The feed from Torhenus suddenly closed with a short, crackling noise and the judge understood that just like the man before him, whose head had just been seperated from his body by his sword, Torhenus would talk no more. The beheaded man's place was immediately taken in by two other troopers and for a moment the judge didn't really have time to consider the consequences. Combat reflexes came to the fore as he was confronted with three shock mauls mercilessly hammering down on him. He took a hit to the chest, but could thank the Mechanicus for his unique set of armour with build-in conductors. The judge didn't bother bringing his fancy sword techniques to the fore. Ripostes or reversed grips wouldn't gain him any points here. Instead he resorted to simple hack and slash, cutting his opponents down, if necessary, piece by piece.

In the meanwhile, Arthur considered the consequences of what had been Torhenus' final message. Setting an ambush, even of this quality - the nerve gas was an excellent idea - could be achieved by carefully studying your opponent and with the time they had spend on Nixus Secund, someone with enough means and perseverance could pull it off. However, overwriting an Arbite code was quite something else. If those codes and commands were insecure, the consequences could be extremely dire. A number of soft spots came to his mind. It meant that their defenses could be penetrated. The _Revenge_ might be at risk. Also all covers could be blown. Which meant that regulator Akira, arbitrator Mahara and even Frank were in danger, not to mention a large number of lesser assets that passed on information to his office. But of immediate importance was that his transports were compromised. He sidestepped the last of his opponents that held his shock maul in two hands to recklessly tried landing a blow on Arthur's head. The man was rewarded for his efforts with a deep gash in his left thigh, which made delivering the killing blow child's play. With his demise, all that could be heard once more was the crackling of his power sword.

When he contacted the Omega squad, no reply came. The judge ran to the docking bay entrance. From there he had a good view over the highfield base and Arthur was hardly surprised to see that the transports that had brought them here were now nothing more than burning husks. The self-destruct option was yet another thing that could be activated with the correct Arbite codes. When he checked in with Delta squad to change their meeting point, no one answered. It seemed he was truly alone now. Until he heard the noise of jet engines approaching the base through the valley. With all his ships burned to the ground, Arthur knew he didn't have to expect friendlies. With gritted teeth, the judge made himself ready for a dangerous retreat.


	51. Chapter 51: Concluded business

_+++9.351.987.M41+++_  
 _+++In transit, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Unnamed vessel, Captain's quarters+++_

The astropath wore an outrageous combination of blue and purple velvet clothes, with ostentatious silver chains around his neck and a multitude of brooches pinned to his lapels. The Cartel paid their collaborators rather handsomely and they were free to spend the money as they pleased. Normally, magister Graz utterly disliked the complete lack of style the man displayed. Today however, he didn't comment on it. He hardly even noticed it. All his attention went to the little scroll of paper the man had brought him.

With a barely noticeable flick of his hand, he dismissed the psyker, and the man had been around long enough not to miss the discrete signal. As soon as the psyker had left the room, Graz smiled, showing his teeth. An obvious sign for Elisabeth Von Munich standing as a silent observer in the corner of the room, that the received news was very, very pleasing. Without another word spoken, she went to the "new" liquor cabinet. Although all the furniture had been replaced after Graz' outburst, it were all old pieces build at least six centuries ago.

As she handed him his drink, he gave her the message in return. From behind her golden mask, she read the short message and immediately understood what to do next. She stepped over to a large chest that was at odds with the rest of the furniture. It's steel casing and the ancient, bronze ticking mechanism build in the side of it hardly matched the leather fauteuils and the fine wooden table and bookshelves. She had no trouble at all pulling the chest to Graz' feet, but still she could feel how her body ached where the late regulator Willis had wounded her. She punched in a long code into the side of the coffer and heard a soft click and the hissing sound of air that escaped. With a graceful movement she uncovered the contents of the chest.

Magister Graz sat up and leaned forward. As he hung over the chest, the gleeful smile made place for a more reserved look. "Ah, magister Zagreb. So nice of you to join us." Graz tried to correct himself for his smugness. Belittling the man laying at his feet should be below him, but he couldn't seem to help himself. He had respected Zagreb before, but when the man had gone after him, trying to rob him of his position, and had finally failed, the respect had turned into loathing. The rules of the Cartel were pretty clear on infighting. One could take over the position of another man if one could produce the same or better results. And of course the interests of the Cartel couldn't be hurt in the process. The board was pretty strict in enforcing those rules. Graz considered it as yet another sign the Kerviel Cartel stood far above everyone else in terms of civility and efficiency.

The magister scraped his throat. "I have to inform you that the cadre of Judge Arthur Belloran has practically ceased to exist. The judge might be unaccounted for, but I hear that the Nixus Plateau is far from a hospitable environment. His flagship has been destroyed in orbit and his underling has gone to ground but is being hunted down as we speak. His two arbitrators, Mahara and Tquel are dead and as you no doubt know, regulator Willis has been killed by his friend. I'm sure you can appreciate the irony that the only one that had to die, didn't. Perhaps I will look after this little fish to remind me of how things can turn out. Thanks to him, I now have your entire network at my disposal. Rest assured, I will put it to good use. The Kerviel Cartel will continue to flourish."

Halfway through his little speech he had taken his attention from the trembling man below him to his glass of amasec, but now he looked back down. Zagreb was trembling, but from anger or fear? Graz didn't even care. He removed his eyes once more from the man. An unspoken signal for his right hand. The chest was closed and Graz could see how Elisabeth pushed the button with the deactivation rune. The ticking of the little apparatus ceased and with it, the life support systems inside the chest stopped as well. Now, it was nothing more but a coffin.

"Let us rejoin the rest of the group. It isn't a new era, but new opportunities are laid out before us."


	52. Chapter 52: Re-acquaintance

_+++4.674.988.M41+++_  
 _+++Havarth, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Norgian - Evening Market+++_

Dozens of different scents assaulted his senses as he strolled between shabby but colourful market stands, wurming his way through the crowd of men and women that were trying to make the most of their limited free time. Lars feigned interest when he passed a liquor vendor, but used the moment of rest to check his surroundings. But everything seemed to be safe and normal. When he passed the notoriously foul mouthed tech adept at the northern corner of the market, he crouched and, with a small piece of chalk, drew a double white line on the butressed pillar supporting the thick rockcrete roof of the market fifty metres higher. The signal indicated that he was ready for the announced meeting the next day. As he stood back up, he sighed.

 _'Perhaps this time, things will finally start moving, Akira.'_

Lars felt dishearted. It had been more than a year since Pellenne. More than a year of keeping his cover. More than a year of working for the cult he had been investigating before. A year that every day he woke up, was a day he was working against the Imperium. A year of isolation. After Pellenne, the cult had moved him out. It was ironic that even with his death, Willis had helped Lars. It was only his corpse and more importantly, his credentials that had been essential in backing his story. With the Alpha of Willis on the table, lady Kuntich had no other option than to give credit to his cover of a fugitive enforcer. And although Lars had been wary of further moves of the Cartel at first, after two months he had started to believe that Willis had effectively brokered a deal. The clusterfrak at the mine shaft was still a mark on his file, he was sure, but with the results he had brought the cult, it was something they were willing to shove in the Arbite's shoes.

Lars left the market, now his task had been done, but his mind wandered on. Since Pellenne he had trouble sleeping. He was suffering from a recurring nightmare where he was running on a plains towards a muddy hill. On the hill he could see the figures of Arthur and Frank who were fending off a group of assailants. Lars was exhausted and short of breath, but in the dream he managed to make it to the foot of hill. There he would find a narrow bridge over a moat, surrounding the hill. The cries from the top rang more desperate than ever in his ears and Lars was determined to aid them in their struggle. As he stormed onto the bridge, he suddenly noticed another figure trying to navigate the narrow crossing. Without hesitation he grabbed the figure by the shoulder and swung him aside. When the man fell, Lars looked down on him. And every single time he stared right in the angry, accusing eyes of Walter Willis.

Now too, the fate of Walter Willis was on his mind. Since he had executed, or rather killed, his friend, not a day passed when he didn't doubt himself. Had it been right to kill him? Hadn't he been too fast to judge? Where would he be if he had spared his life? Without friends or the possibility to turn back to his superior, these were questions he could only ask himself.

Lars came to the warehouse where he had been working. Lady Kuntich had reassigned him to Havarth, a hive world he'd never been, but that had felt somehow familiar. After all, here too the nobility kept to their spire palaces and let the rest suffer. The living conditions in the middle hive, where Lars had been staying, were hardly comfortable, but they were better than the highly polluted air and water from the lower levels. He'd been given a job as one of the lieutenants of a mercenary band, the Lost Boys. It was a band of misfits coming from all over: ex-guardsmen, former enforcers, some low-life gangers that had made it out and quite a few old household guards that had become too old to serve their house. The captain of the company, he himself once a household officer, got them jobs for the lower nobility and rich merchants. Lars' job was to try and recruit among the staff of their employers. In the year he had been with the Lost Boys, he'd been able to gather quite a group of fellow cultmembers around him. He had even been given permission to spin off new branches of the cult himself. He was effectively in the position of lady Kuntich on Pellenne. But even so, he hardly got any new information on the cult. There had been no changes to his orders for over three months and he had no way to contact his superior. A man Lars had never seen, nor heard. He only communicated in writing. So, Lars continued to do his work, hoping that he didn't get caught by the Havarth enforcers - or worse - and praying every night for sleep and a change.

That night too, it was all he could do.

* * *

 _+++4.677.988.M41+++_  
 _+++Havarth, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Norgian - Gullen's Inn+++_

Gullen's Inn was situated on the edge of the middle hive, in between the first of a few dozen massive chimneys from manufactoria from the lower hive and the broad 20-line freeway connecting those to the lowest cargoport of Hive Norgian. It wasn't a great place for an inn with the noise of the cargo trucks on the freeway and the deep humming sound of the manufactoria echoing through the chimneys, invading every corner of the little locale. But for the cult, it meant that there were hardly any witnesses and that overhearing their discussions wouldn't be easy. The owner, a woman called Raezoli - who had nothing to do with Gullen Lars had learned - happily saw them coming as a meeting of the cult meant at least triple income that day.

When Lars entered, he had expected to be greeted by at least a dozen men and women. He was still in control of a circle himself and he had spun off four others, that had seemed to be capable of holding their own. Instead, he could see Raezoli, who gave him a curt nod, but none of her regulars, nor any of his men. At the bar, which had been built out of old promethium drums, sat just one guy, although he might have counted for two. The barstool was already bent in a dangerous angle, and as the man turned around, the thing nearly gave in to the weight.

Lars' expression must have been one of surprise, because the man started laughing. "What is it Christian? Did you think we would never meet again after we last spoke?" Ulahn Preston's mouth was half full with whatever Raezoli served as food and large chunks of it fell out of Preston's open mouth. Lars sat on the barstool next to him and ordered an ale. It probably was the safest substance to consume in the shady bar. "I'm sorry if I startled you, Christian. I sent your men away." "No problem," Lars answered evenly, although the reappearance of Preston meant a lot of questions. "We can go too if you like? It's not like this is the hottest place in the hive. We only use it because it's so far out of the way of almost everybody." Preston grabbed a greasy, saucage-like piece of food and swallowed it whole. "No man. The food's good. Just about as good as the company." Lars looked around the deserted inn. Raezoli kept to herself at the far end of the bar, trying hard to be ignored. Preston would have made quite the entrance and he would definitely have shown that he meant business. The folk Lars had recruited didn't step down from a fight, nor were they easy to intimidate.

"So, let's talk then." Lars said, "I can't imagine you came down here for _noll_ , right?" Preston shoved the filthy dish away from him, and finding himself without napkins, used his pants to clean his hands. "I'm here with a lot of our fellows to meet with the chief. I'm here to pick you up. We'll meet later tonight." Lars didn't try to keep the excitement out of his voice. It seemed he finally would have a breakthrough, and his alias should also enjoy seeing some results for a change. "Finally _make_. I've been running this show here for more than a year." Preston giggled. "Yeah, you did well Christian. You did very well. That's why I'm here. But you gotta know. Some of our fellows have been doing this for over a decade. They weren't all as talented as you, so perhaps they could have had more success over the years, but if you think you had it bad, think again."

Again, Lars felt surprised. The fact that this operation was running for more than a decade was utterly disturbing. Most of the criminals he had met, had a time horizon of a couple of months. The more talented, a year. But an op running for over ten years? "Frak _make_. A decade," he wondered, "That's a lot of time. How many are there of us?" "I've got a better view than you, but that's not a question I can answer. But as you have come to realize, there are lots of people who want to shake things up, right? There is a lot of anger and contept for the Imperium going around. I'm glad we will be able to change that."

Preston threw a couple of coppers on the bar and gave Raezoli a wave. "Time to go, Christian. Perhaps our chief can enlighten us."

* * *

 _+++4.677.988.M41+++_  
 _+++Havarth, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Norgian - Underhive Water Treatment Plant Sigma-4+++_

Preston had a groundcar parked outside - an old, battered Mitsunda - and without further ado they had started driving downwards. After an hour of driving through mostly industrial grounds, most of them abandoned, they came to the ruins of an ancient water treatment plant. Preston stopped in front of the main building, although he didn't have much choice since the whole area was littered with wrecks and trash. He flashed his headlights twice, waited for half a minute and repeated the gesture. Nothing seemed to happen and Lars started to wonder whether they were at the right place. But a minute later the light of two stab lights could be seen from behind the broken windows of the plant.

Preston stepped out of the car and beckoned Lars to follow him. Without lights of their own, they could only rely on the residual lighting from above, which, at this level of the hive, was next to nothing. Stumbling over empty cans and other mess, they reached the figures with the stab lights. "Code?" a female voice called out. Blinded by the stab lights, Lars couldn't really make out with how many they were, but the clicking sound of a safety lever being switched off, wasn't really reassuring. Luckily, Preston spoke up immediately. "Revolt" The stablights were aimed at the ground. "Alright. Follow us."

Lars paid close attention to their guards, because it was clear that although they were now accepted, they still seemed a bit wary. They didn't holster their guns, which were mostly standard issue lasguns and laspistols. And they didn't start to chit chat, not with Preston or himself, nor among themselves. When they entered the building, Lars could see that the ruins were but a cover. Only 50 metres inside, the grime had been swept away and in some places, the walls had been reinforced. A solid, metal door stood at the end of the corridor and Lars was sure that he could see sensor arrays built in the ceiling. Next to the door hung a pictcapter in a reinforced cage and somebody must have been keeping an eye on them because just as they approached the door, it split and slid open.

Beyond lay a large hall with hundreds of copper and plasteel pipes coming together in large cylindrical vats. Almost everywhere, Lars could see signs of heavy corrosion, but at certain points - ladders and platforms, doors and even some of the old vats - they had been renewed. Their guards didn't break their stride and took Preston and Lars down to the bottom floor of the large hall. There, they indicated a heavy door in one of the renewed tanks. It stood open and the artificial lighting of industrial floodlights shone out of it. Preston stepped forwards and lead the way, leaving Lars no other option than to follow.

Inside of the tank, which, at the bottom, was large enough to fit a few Rhino's, three lines of folding chairs had been set up. Before that, someone had set up an old laboratorium table with a flag of the dragon cult symbol draped over it. The flood lights stood at either side of the table, lighting up the area before it. Lars quickly counted the chairs and matched it with the number of people in the tank. At least twenty men and women were already present, which meant that a third of the group still had to arrive, if the number of chairs was anything to go by of course. Lars took a seat on the last row, next to a skinny, white haired man in a uniform of a Navy NCO. Lars saw how Preston took a place against the wall of the tank at the back, obviously not trusting the quality of the folding chairs. Something Lars thought was wise of him.

Lars looked around the room. The large majority seemed to have come here alone and only a handful of those present were engaged in conversation. The rest sat or stood in the little room, waiting until whatever was going to happen, would begin. Over the next twenty minutes, Lars saw another dozen men and women arrive, the last of which was lady Kuntich herself. Lars didn't wave, but the old hag had spotted him immediately, giving him a look of recognition and distaste at the same time. After she entered, one of the guards, closed the heavy door and the room fell quiet. A lot of his companions were looking around with confusion, but still no one dared to speak up. Lars threw a questioning look at Preston and he could see how Kuntich was doing the same. For once Ulahn Preston seemed to be out of his depth himself, for he ignored the questioning looks completely and remained focused on the scene.

Just before the people started asking questions, a voice came from the dark side of the room. "My fellow followers of the Dragon." The voice had a strange quality to it, but Lars couldn't exactly put his finger on what made it special. "I am glad we finally meet. We are after all, working together to reach our destination." It wasn't just the local dialect of low gothic, nor was the voice artificial like those of the servants of the Mechanicus. "Tonight, we will look forward together. We will prepare ourselves for the Change."

The timbre of the man's voice, who had now stepped into the light behind the improvised altar, was the problem. It was a deep voice, but somehow, some words came out with a high tone, sounding double, as if they had been spoken by a second person. The rest of the group didn't seem bothered by this and one look at Preston learned him that he too was enthralled by the message of the man before them. Just like a clergyman of the Ecclesiarchy, the man had somehow started preaching, using several anekdotes and little stories to solidify this so-called Change. Lars couldn't help but think of the words of lord Kasparin.

 _'A great wave is coming for this sector. A wave that will flood the Imperium. Only the strong will remain standing. Only those worthy of the cult will survive.'_

Instead of listening to what the man had to say, Lars studied him some more. The voice still bothered him, even more so now he saw that multiple people in the room were softly swinging from left to right, sometimes even bobbing up, on the rythm of the man's words. He could only describe them as mesmerized. Apart from his voice, there was something else wrong with him. His eyes were a bit too close to each other, and although his bald skull wasn't a clue per se, the fact that he seemed to have no body hair at all, was. Lars could see how the man's brows were painted upon his scalp. At some point though, the man crossed eyes with Lars and the arbite knew he had to cut it out and start behaving like the rest of the crowd. A bit uneasy, he started swaying gently from left to right. The preacher directed his attention elsewhere and Lars let out a long soft sigh of relief.

After another thirty minutes of the same lulling speech, the man behind the altar wrapped it up. Next he stepped out from behind the altar and walked towards the group. From one of his pockets, he produced a number of golden coins and handed them out to several members of the group. Lars didn't get one but he could see how the symbol of the dragon was stamped on them. He didn't dare to look around too ostentaticiously, because he still had the feeling that the preacher kept a close eye on him, but still he noticed how Preston was given a coin as well. After that the man stepped back to the fore and held out his own dragon amulet before him.

"For progress of the Change! United we stand!"

The whole room repeated after him, Lars included. In fact, he yelled it at the top of his lungs to make sure he gave an enthusiastic impression. After that, the guards opened the doors once more and beckoned them out. They were all handed a scrap of paper on which a timecode and a new password were written. Lars was about to make his way to the stairs out of the cavernous room when he saw how Preston was taken out of the crowd. In fact, all of the cultists that had received a golden coin, were asked to step out of the file. Lars regretted not having been given one but couldn't do anything else but follow the rest of the group that was ushered out.

Once outside, Lars walked to the Mitsunda and sat on the hood of the dinged car. The rest of the cultists dispersed and took to groundcars of their own, or just left on foot, probably to another mode of transportation. Lars couldn't imagine any one of those staying on this level, or going back on foot to the middle hive, a trip that would easily take the best part of a day. After a good ten minutes the parking lot was deserted once more. As far as Lars had been able to make out, the guards had retreated into the fortified part of the old plant. Lars knew he could try to hijack the car, but he was sure Preston wouldn't appreciate that. Still, the air on this level made his throat prickle and Lars wanted to get out. However, he was pretty sure that returning to the entrance and asking politely for a stay for the night, wouldn't be met with a positive answer.

Lars eyes started to become accustomed to the darkness and he started wandering around slowly, circling the main building and trying to find out whether the other entrances were equally reinforced. After half an hour of skulking around in the deep shadows, Lars hadn't been able to check on any fortifications, but the fact that all other exits were blocked off with crude flakboard panels, didn't give him a lot of hope. He had, however, come across a large bridge, supporting an enormous pipe and lots of smaller ones, descending from the upper levels and heading into the plant. Without any sign of Preston, or any of the other cult members for that matter, Lars started climbing the corroded metal pillar that served as the bridge's support. Once on top of the bridge, Lars wriggled through the gap between two industrial sized pipes and found a service walkway. Although the thick layer of rust crisped under his boots, the walkway seemed to support his weight and Lars sent a little prayer up to the Omnissiah, thanking Him for the sturdiness of his standard patterns.

Coming to the wall of the main building, Lars looked for a service hatch in the dim light. Logically it should be at the end of the walkway, but the energy the Mechanicus had invested in sturdiness, they sure hadn't in logic. Lars found a few, utterly broken, pressure meters but nothing else. Backtracking his steps, he found a little ladder, leading to a service hatch. Coming to the top of the ladder, Lars cursed. The door was in iron as well and had been afflicted by corrosion to an extent that Lars deemed it impossible to pull it open. Ready to give up, he turned around and banged his fist against one of the smaller pipes in frustration. With a cloud of rustbrown powder and an awful squeeking noise, the pipe snapped in two. Lars ducked and checked his surroundings. So far, he hadn't seen any patrols, nor heard any other sounds that indicated the presence of other people, but it wouldn't hurt to play safe at this point. After five minutes he concluded that the surroundings of the plant were still as deserted as before. He turned back to the broken pipe. The diameter of the tube was about two feet, just enough for Lars to crawl through, although if the thing got any narrower down the line, he wouldn't be able to move forwards and wurming his way backwards, would go at an agonizing low speed. For once, Lars praised himself lucky for not wearing his standard enforcer carapace.

 _'You'll_ probably miss that armour even more than your pistol, Akira. Assuming you manage not to get stuck down there.'

Further pondering the decision wouldn't get him any more boons, so without further hesitation, Lars started crawling forwards, into the darkness.


	53. Chapter 53: Initiation

Lars had only moved forward about ten metres when the residual light from the outside was cut off by a sharp turn to the right. Without a stablight or photocontacts, Lars was now effectively blind. All he had were his hands that felt the way forward. On the bottom of the pipe, there was a thin layer of dirt, sediment, now the only sign that once these pipes had been filled with water. As he crawled further in, Lars praised himself lucky that the pipe showed no signs of becoming more narrow. Which didn't mean that he was comfortable. He had to stay on his kneels and elbows. There wasn't enough room to crawl on his hands and knees, which made his progress only slower. After a while his back started to ache and Lars hoped he would find an exit pretty soon, or at least a place where he could stretch.

After a quarter of an hour, Lars' wishes hadn't come true, although there was a change to his environment. Before, the only sound penetrating the silence had been the soft rustling noise of his clothes that swept against the metal pipe. Now, he also heard a faint bass tone, reverberating through the pipe. Although he could distinguish a repeating rythm, he was pretty sure that it wasn't coming from one of the installations inside the plant. The rythm sometimes sped up and afterwards it calmed down once more. It was more like... music. Without other ways to observe what was happening, Lars pushed onwards, still trying to find an exit.

The pipe went on and on however, and although Lars had tried to keep track of the distance he had travelled - he had counted the pieces of pipe he had crawled through - the pipe had twisted and turned and he had lost his count. The music had become louder, but Lars still had no idea whether the source of the sound was nearby or far away. What he did notice was that the angle of the pipe had slowly dropped and that for the last ten minutes he had been steadily descending. The arbite didn't know if that was a good sign, or that he had now left the facility again and was crawling towards the underhive, but five minutes later his progress came to a full stop. Before him, Lars' hands felt nothing but thi air. The pipe hadn't stopped but had taken another sharp turn, although this time, instead of going to the left or right, it went straight down. He turned on his back to feel at the ceiling of the pipe and sure enough, he found the opening of another one, right above the drop his pipe led to. He was at a T junction and could now only go up or down.

After a moment of selfpity, Lars decided he would go further down. That way, if he would fall, the distance to the bottom would at least be shorter than if he started climbing up. With a grunt he managed to pull himself forward so his shoulders were now hanging over the gap. Next he pulled himself up, making himself as wide as possible so his shoulders were jammed against the sides of the pipe. Now, he could start clambering downwards, alternating between his legs and back to put pressure against the sides of the pipe. All seemed to be going well. After a while though, Lars' legs started to cramp up and still there was no sign of the pipe levelling out. For a moment he wanted to pause, but that would only make things worse, he realized. Grunting in the darkness, he continued. After another few metres, his hand slipped. His left shoulder scraped against the pipe. Cursing, he restored his grip, but only half a minute later his right leg gave out. Now his right side was slumped against the pipe. Lars felt desperation taking over, but he couldn't allow himself to panic. Instead, he started praying out loud. His limbs trembled, but sure enough, after another two metres, he felt the pipe leveling out, just as it grew wider.

After sitting down for five minutes at the bottom of the drop, breathing heavily in and out, he started to move again. He had praised the Emperor abundantly but Lars felt that he would need all the help he could get. At this level, the bass rhythm was sounding louder than ever and he could also distinguish higher notes. The echoes in the pipes were still distorting the sound, but it sounded like... chanting. With a sense of trepidation, Lars crouched and went onwards, the ache in his back hardly soothed by the short pause, but at least the horizontal pipe allowed him to move faster.

After another five minutes, Lars came to an opening once more. Luckily, he could still feel the bottom and he guessed he was in some sort of reservoir. Not sure where to go next, he cautiously felt to the left and right. Before he knew it, he felt something rubbery in his hand and nearly cried out in surprise. But apart from the music, which had gotten a disturbing atonal quality, he couldn't hear anything else in the reservoir. He stretched out his hand and found the foreign object once more. He explored it with both his hands, but couldn't identify it. A rubbery line, connected to some sort of metal box. On the ground he found yet more of the rubbery tubes and something which felt like plasteel tracks. It was only when his left thumb was sticking through an eye socket, and his right hand was around the rest of a skull, Lars realized that he was feeling up a servitor. Probably a unit responsible for cleaning the pipeworks. Lars relaxed. And then he felt a bit of joy. If this unit was in some sort of holding station, it would make sense that there was an access to this room where the Mechanicus would be able to service the thing. Lars felt new energy and started crawling through the space, looking for anything that looked like a service panel or hatch. After pushing over the remains of the servitor, Lars found such a hatch and he praised the Emperor once more when the locking mechanism was a simple bolt which he could open from the inside.

Half a minute later he was standing on a grated plasteel plate, overlooking a cavernous hall with dozens of tanks. Beneath him, the room was lit by hundreds of lanterns, concentrated around the central copper tank that was being used as a stage. On the circular top of the tank a few dozen men and women were standing in a thick pack. At the left of the mass, Lars could see a group of musicians that used improvised instruments to create the strange atonal music Lars had heard echoing through the pipeworks. The mass were chanting and singing, each their own song. Together with the music, it created the atonal harmony that made the hair in Lars' neck stand up straight. As he observed the spectacle, Lars could see the strange bobbing and swinging of the men and women on the stage. It reminded him of what he had seen earlier that night, only, it felt like this time, the mass was even further submerged in the trance.

Lars wasn't really sure what to do next. He could get to the floor of the hall and find his way to the central tank easy enough, but what good would it do? He was without weapons or backup. As he pondered the situation, his eye felt on a figure approaching the central tank below him. The man was shrouded in a long white cape, but Lars could see that he was a tall man as he towered over the guards that accompanied him. But apart from his length, there was something else about him. Again, Lars couldn't really put his finger on it, apart from noticing that the man waggled a bit from left to right as he moved forwards. But there had to be something about him, because when he reached the top of the stairs that were slung around the copper tank, the mass immediately turned their attention to him, all in one moment, as if an electric shock had gone through them. The music stopped and the crowd stepped back to make room for the robed man. Lars wished he had a pair of magnoculars with him, because he could only see the major movements of the mass, not their expressions. Several of the cultists fell to their knees though when the man passed, but they were careful enough not to touch the figure.

Once the man came to the middle of the tank, he threw back the hood that had concealed his face. Lars gasped. Instead of the face of a charismatic leader, an utterly misformed head came from under the white cloth. Its skull was far longer than that of a regular human and Lars noticed how the thing had an extra pair of eyes on its weird shaped temples. The crowd however didn't seem shocked, nor freightened. Lars however, had to do everything to not crawl back into the pipehouse he had left minutes ago. The mutant raised a small metalic object into the air and Lars could see how his gesture was being followed by a number of cultists. One of those was undoubtably Preston Ulahn as no one else in the group was anywhere near as fat as the man. Those that mimicked the gesture slowly made their way through the mass until they could kneel in front of the leader. Lars wished to look away, but he couldn't avert his eyes. The man in the white robe bent forward and then kissed the first of the cultists on the mouth. Even from this distance Lars could see a large glob of slimy saliva drop to the floor as the leader pulled back his face. The cultist gingerly returned the coin and laid down on his belly, seemingly submitting themselves to the creature. So it went on and on, until all the chosen cultists were laying face first against the floor. The choir went crescendo as their leader spread out his arms, revealing his hands. Or at least, one hand, because the other was twisted into some sort of four pronged claw. At that point, the cultists started shuddering and trembling, and one after another they stood up, rejoining the rest of the ranks, adding their voices to the atonal melody as the musicians had started playing again.

Lars had seen enough, but didn't know what to do. It surpassed his worst fears. This went far beyond high end smugglers or cartel business. This wasn't just another criminal organisation trying to recruit or start playing on a sector level.

 _'This is heresy,_ absolut _heresy.'_

And he hadn't got a clue what to do about it. So Lars still sat on the little platform an hour later. The leader had retreated from the stage, the crowd had dispersed and Lars was utterly alone in the large hall. The lanterns and candles were failing one after another and soon enough he would be shrouded in darkness once more. But Lars didn't notice. He was still too shocked from the unholy and alien ceremony to come into action. And although he had been in situations far more dangerous than this one, the magnitude of the challenge was unprecedented. He could easily slip away and leave the whole mess behind without a problem, but to succeed at his mission... Lars felt like he was up against the entire galaxy. And in a way, he was. For all he knew, Belloran and his staff were out of the picture and he himself was stuck with a number of fake identities that all had enough dirt on them to judge him in an instant. So, although he had been thinking about a plan or strategy to shut down the entire cult, he had gotten stuck each and every time.

 _'All your plans and schemes are worthless, Akira. You need to get back to basics.'_

He needed more intel. He needed to know more about the mutant leader. He needed to get a picture of their resources here on Havarth. And in the sector as a whole.

 _'And you're in luck Akira. You're in the middle of the enemy base, all that information ripe for the taking.'_

Although he still hadn't a plan to succeed at his mission, the regulator now at least had a motivation and an immediate objective. With that, he felt better already. In the last of the faint light, he grabbed hold of the steel ladder leading to the floor of the hall. Coming at its foot, he decided to head for the corridor the leader had disappeared in. Lars wasn't aiming for a direct confrontation, but he suspected that any sensitive data would be stored close by its residence. It was easy to find its trail. At this level, the facility had been in an even worse state than on top and the cultists had taken efforts to clear certain paths from debris and even reinforce certain sections with new, standard issue support pillars. Lars assumed that they would stay in these areas rather than the areas where the floor tiles were ruined, the rockcrete ceiling had started rotting or where the lumenstrips were hanging out of their sockets.

Without his armour or any other equipment, Lars felt vulnerable, but, on the plus side, he was lighter on his feet. And he had every intention to play this advantage to the fullest. Remaining unnoticed by the cultist guards seemed to be a top priority, although obtaining a weapon wasn't far below on the list of objectives. Lars seemed to be in luck, because only five minutes into the inner centre of the cultist base, he stumbled upon a makeshift lockerroom. The light of the sparsely distributed lumenstrips in the corridor only shed a little light in the 5 by 4 metre room, but it was enough to make out the form of a Berserk-pattern heavy lasrifle. Lars wasn't very familiar with lasguns - he preferred the rapport and recoil of solid projectile weapons - but it would do for now. The Berserk rifle only had semi-auto and full-auto firing options, so thinking to get an accurate shot out of it, was a lost cause from the start. Lars checked the clip and could see that the charge had depleted to about half capacity, but still, it was better than nothing. He could always use it as a heavy club when it ran out of juice.

Continuing his way through the base, Lars noticed that there were hardly any patrols, or in fact, any living souls at all on the lower level of the water plant. He'd only come across a duo of guards, sitting in a provisoral refectorium that stank of old recaf, talking in hushed voices. Lars had waited for a minute or two, trying to discern the subject of their conversation, but the distance had been to great. He stumbled over something far more interesting only minutes later. Alerted by a soft buzzing sound, Lars had left the main path for a smaller, service corridor. At the end of the narrow hallway, a metal fence had been used to replace the missing door. Through the mesh, Lars saw at least five large data columns and an ancient cogitator station that was crudely connected to the datalooms with industrial cabling. It all smelt of improvisation and Lars realized that in all his time with the Dragon Cult, he had rarely, if ever seen a tech priest.

 _'Perhaps the Mechanicus is impervious for their arguments, Akira. Perhaps they might be your ally in this?'_

Lars tried to open the fence, but it was locked. A sturdy and brandnew security lock made sure that the fence wouldn't be opened without the proper key. For a moment, Lars considered using the lasrifle to force his way in, but that would also make sure that every guard in the vicinity would be put on alarm. Lars felt at the fence and found out that although the lock was of high quality, the mesh itself was hanging on with thin metal wires. Although Lars' strength was nothing to write home about, he managed to break the door in such a way that he could crawl through.

Immediately, he activated the old cogitator. It had an endured rubber coating to avoid water getting into its systems, so it probably was a unit the cultists found at the water plant itself. The black screen lit up with orange letters and before he could click open any control menu's, an old memo popped up.

"To praise the Omnissiah, is to offer Holy ointments regularly to his servants!"

Without the necessary oils at hand, Lars clicked away the message and started browsing through the menu's to get a good view on whatever information was stored in the datalooms. Soon he found that there were hundreds of folders, but looking at the metadata the ancient machine spirit reluctantly provided him with, he could filter a lot out. After half an hour of dividing his attention between the grainy orange letters and the fence door behind him, he had compiled a specific folder with interesting intelligence: Names of notable members of the cult, locations of safe houses and a large number of accounts with all sorts of moneylenders and traffickers. Obviously there wasn't a datanet, so Lars looked for a datacard, but it seemed the cultists really had very little tech resources. Lars pondered the problem for a moment when his eye fell on the five old datacolumns. The datalooms inside were his only option. There was way too much information to start noting it down, so Lars isolated one of the columns and searched for an empty stack. He was amazed at what the machine spirit let him do, especially in this unorthodox configuration. Silently, he thanked his colleague Vishna for the few lessons in cogitator handling he had received on their way to the judge. This whole setup and procedure was right up the former tech adept's alley and without the pointers she had given him, he would have been stuck.

With the data handling complete, Lars carefully took of the cover of the data column that housed his compilation. He counted the stacks until he found the one that contained his folder. The metal was hot under his fingers and as he pulled the stack out of the column, the little red lights that had been flickering on its surface, fading out. Lars found a few pieces of cloth in a toolbox under the table with the cogitator and wrapped them around the fragile dataloom.

 _'Now let's hope these bastards don't check their equipment too much, Akira. If they never find out you've been here, perhaps you can come back better prepared for clearing out this bunch.'_

It had become obvious that this theft of information needed to remain hidden from the cult. If they would find out, they would go to ground and most of Lars' intel would be rendered useless. So the regulator carefully placed back the cover of the datacolumn and restored the cogitator station to its original configuration. With his precious package tucked firmly behind his belt, he crawled back through the fence and tried to close the gap he had made. If they would examine the door closely, bringing a strong enough lumen globe, they would still notice the damage, but when you looked at it with only the light of the corridor behind him, there was no way that someone would stumble over it.

Lars noticed how his steps had become more secure, more confident. For the first time in over a year, he felt like an arbite. Once more he had a purpose. Finally he had obtained a way to hit back. It meant he had something to live and fight for instead of being stuck in a cover with no prospects of doing any good. It also meant that he had something to lose. So he doubled his efforts to remain unnoticed and started looking for a way back up.


	54. Chapter 54: Escape

_++4.678.988.M41+++_  
 _+++Havarth, Subsector Ossibus, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++_  
 _+++Hive Norgian - Underhive Water Treatment Plant Sigma-4+++_

Lars laid flat on his belly on another service platform. From his vantage point he could see the exit of the facility and the corridor leading up to it. Four guards were present by the reinforced steel door that gave access to the parking lot outside of the old water treatment plant. Two of them held standard issue lasguns and were smoking lho sticks right next to the heavy switch that would open the door. A third one set at a little table with an apparantly brandnew cogitator station, flipping through the different pict feeds from the outside. The last one sat on the floor with a chair before him, laying out Imperial tarot cards before him on the seat. The hallway was only ten feet wide, the little table with the cogitator blocking almost half of it. There was no way he would be able to sneak past. And even if he would use the Berserk-pattern lasrifle on the guards and would take them all out, his objective of leaving the facility unnoticed would definitely be a bust. Lars was hoping that a change in the guard would give him an opportunity, but after three hours of waiting, Lars was beginning to wonder whether they would actually get relieved.

Suddenly, Lars heard voices coming from under him. He peeked through a hole in the metal platform and spotted three figures with glowglobes, mounting the stairs leading to the checkpoint.

"So, how did this batch go? Another success?" a woman dressed in a flak coat asked casually. "Yeah, most of them anyway. Just one that didn't take." the man walking behind her answered. He didn't sound too concerned either. "What did they do?" the woman inquired. The third man shrugged. "He wasn't too far gone, so they tranqued him and put him in one of the cells. We'll see if he comes to his senses in the next few days." The woman chuckled. "Glad I'm not on that detail." The first man agreed wholeheartedly, nodding with a big smile on his face. "Yeah. It's spooking as warp to guard those fraks. It's Scodders that pulled the short straw." Now all three laughed out loud. "Classic Scodders. Always in for the worst crap." the woman said without a shred of compassion in her voice. .

The trio passed under the Arbite and Lars could see how they were welcomed by the other group. A few handshakes were exchanged and the man at the cogitator seemed to be briefing the woman. Although Lars was disappointed that the changing of the guard wouldn't provide him with a chance to get away after all - even with a man less, it was impossible to sneak by them unnoticed - his spirit didn't falter. The little conversation had contained all the info he needed to create some sort of diversion. Especially if there was only one man, and not the most competent at that, so it seemed, that would be able to stop him.

Lars waited patiently until the first four disappeared into the bowels of the water plant and then started to crawl back. As soon as he thought he was out of earshot, he started jogging back down. By now it was obvious that the security detail on this base was limited at best and even though they were conscient enough, routine had settled in. Lars avoided the main corridors and started looking for the cells, and more specificly the one Scodders was standing guard by.

Half an hour later, he had found what he was looking for. Before him lay a long corridor with a lot of small offices left and right. Back in the days, it were probably the desks of the lowest ranks of the Mechanicus. At the end of the hall stood a floodlight and beneath it Lars could see the figure of a scrawny man, sitting on a few bricks, with two bottles at his feet. Lars slowly walked forward, doing his best to avoid the rubble that lay on the floor and that would give him away immediately if he stepped, or worse, slipped on it. As he closed the distance, Lars could hear the man humming to the tune of a popular Imperial march. Oblivious of Lars' presence, he grabbed one of the bottles and took a hefty swig. Lars pretended to be swiping away some dirt from his forehead, thereby covering his face and yelled at the man with a heavy voice. "Scodders! What the frak do you think you're doing?!"

The man choked on his drink and scrambled to hide the bottles behind the bricks he sat on. Lars quickly closed the distance and yelled some more at him, preventing the man to find his balance. "Think you're doing a good job guarding the sick frak?!" The man had now put down the bottle in his hand and had given a shove against the other one so that the glass container rolled out of the circle of light on the ground. His attention was now on the lasgun standing next to him against the wall. No doubt, the cultist thought he was being inspected and would be found wanting if his gun was out of his hands. But Scodders didn't even get the chance to stand to attention as Lars broke into a sprint to cross the final metres and violently punched the man on the temple, just as he was getting back up. Scodders went down. Still, Lars could see his eyelids fluttering and the regulator gave the downed man another kick in the teeth for good measure. Scodders made a pityful sound before losing conscience completely.

Lars frisked him quickly and found a keyring and scanned the corridor to see where the prisoner might be. Most of the doors of the former offices stood open. All the furniture had been removed and the doors had been reinforced. Only two doors were closed, both of them near the floodlight. Lars ran through the keys and unlocked the first door. Instead of a person, he saw a dozen crates with locally brewed rotgut. Lars wasn't surprised the cultists kept this reserve behind a lock as the possibilities for diversion at the base were next to none existant. The second door contained what he was looking for. On the ground lay a man, breathing heavily. The floodlight revealed the cold sweat on his brow and as Lars kneeled down next to him and examined him a bit closer he could see how tiny red pubes had formed all over his skin. His eyes were closed and the man didn't seem to react at all at Lars' presence.

The regulator stood back up and prodded the man with the tip of his shoe. Lars had hoped that this guy would be frantic or violent. At least enough of a distraction for the guards to abandon their routine, but it seemed he was going to be disappointed. Lars had already turned his back on the man, thinking how to deal with the knocked out Scodders, when suddenly he heard a fearsome growl behind him. Instinctively, Lars ducked behind the wall and he felt how grasping fingers scratched over his back, but a loud stomp indicated that his assailant had missed and had crashed into the wall. Lars turned around and held out his lasrifle before him, ready to fend off the man, using the weapon as an improvised club. But the man had turned his attention elsewhere and before Lars could react, he was all over Scodders. It was a blessing that the man was unconscious. The other cultist tore open Scodders' dirty flightsuit and with the ferocity of a wild beast, bit into Scodders' neck, snatching out his jugular in a single violent motion.

 _'Time to go Akira. I'm sure this thing will prove enough of a distraction.'_

Lars started running, no longer paying attention to stealth. At least not until he had put enough distance between himself and the raging cultist. He had reached a flight of stairs at the end of the corridor, when the creature - it was no longer an ordinary man - cried out in anger. Lars risked a short look over his shoulder, but apart from a bloody mess under the floodlight, the only thing he could see was a shadow moving towards him with great speed. Lars started climbing the stairs, taking them two at a time. The thing clearly wasn't satiated with Scodders alone and it didn't seem like it would be stopped easily.

"Fraaaak! It escaaaped! Get it! Get it!" Lars cried out. This wasn't exactly going like he had expected, but he needed to use this opportunity to the fullest, drawing as much attention as possible to the crazed cultist as possible. He passed a lone and surprised guard in one of the side corridors and Lars praised himself lucky. The creature was gaining on him and he could use some extra time. The wet sound of blood being spilled behind him, only seconds later, was enough motivation for Lars to keep running up the stairs. On the next floor, Lars left the staircase and stormed off through the corridor that would lead him back to the hall where he had left the pipeworks. It was probably still abandoned and it had enough opportunities to break line of sight with the creature if it would still be following him.

Another minute later, he was hiding behind some waterdrums, trying to steady his breathing to avoid detection should the crazed cultist turn up. After half a minute, nobody appeared and everything remained quiet. Lars was just considering retracing his steps when the telltale crack of a lasgun echoed through the corridor, followed by more screaming.

 _'Looks like someone is occupied with it, Akira. Time to get out. Quickly."_

The great hall he found himself in, had numerous exits and although he still lacked a good understanding of the layout of the base, Lars was reasonably sure that the corridor he picked would lead him to the top level without crossing the more frequently used rooms and hallways. Coming at the service platform he had been laying on earlier, Lars was happy to see that only a single guard remained. From his place in the shadows he could see that it was the woman, fidgeting nervously with her weapon. She looked pale and Lars could see the lasgun in her hands trembling. She flinched when another cry came from deeper within the facility and kept staring intently at the staircase at the end of the corridor. The sounds of weaponry being employed multiplied and Lars knew that he was running out of time.

"Hey! Get over here! Cover us!" Lars yelled from his hiding place. The girl was startled again and took a cautious step towards the staircase. "Yeah, you! Get over here now. We need you to cover us! Quickly!" Lars repeated. Now she started running. Just as she passed under him and saw that no one was on the stairs, Lars swung down from the platform, planting both his feet in the back of the woman, sending her falling down the stairs. Lars hurried down after her, but even before he reached the cultist, the unnatural angle in which her neck was twisted, was insurance enough that she would talk no more. The sound of lasfire from below suddenly stopped and Lars could hear someone bellowing to cease fire.

 _'Time's up, Akira.'_

But Lars' escape route lay wide open now and all that was left was finding his way back to the middle hive. But after that, an his biggest challenge awaited. Finding someone to deal with this mess.


	55. Chapter 55: Leaving

+++5.977.988.M41+++  
+++Juno, Sector Capital, Sector Askellon, Segmentus Obscurus+++  
+++Juno civilian spaceport Hermes - Runway Delta-3+++

In the days and weeks after his escape from the Dragon Cult base on Havarth, Lars had been busy tying up loose ends - such as removing Christian Haraldson from the game - and trying to think of a way to get back in contact with Arthur. The former had been far more easy than the latter. Hive Norgian's underbelly contained enough roughneck gangs with enough means to lay their hands on a corpse and pin an alternate identity on it. To get back in touch with the office of judge Belloran, Lars had decided that he would have the biggest chance heading for Juno. As the sector capital, Juno housed the headquarters of the Adeptus Arbites of the Askellon sector. Frank Horrigan had told Lars that the judge liked his freedom and mostly operated in full autonomy, but in the end, he still fell under the authority of the Supreme Judge Sectoris.

Getting access to the fortress had been challenging - in the end, Lars had used the procedures of witness protection to get in - but even more challenging had been to convince the other arbites of his legal status. He'd gone through a seemingly endless number of interviews and tests and although they had dug up a file of him, which even included biometric data, his case had ended on the desk of the chief of the counterintelligence department. At some points during the process, Lars had felt that he was about to be detained and at one particular moment it had seemed like he would sooner be put on trial than be restored in his former office. Lars could still remember the final talk with judge primaris Cadiz, a woman in her sixties with a flat nose, obviously from getting it broken time and again, who had been put on his case.

"Regulator Akira." she had begun. "Your honor." Lars had suppresed a smile. "I can see that you have already deducted what the council has decided on your case, regulator. However, I wouldn't get my hopes up too much." The use of his rank had been a give-away, but then Lars had shuffled on his chair. Clearly there had been strings attached. He had remained silent though, as well he should in the presence of his superior, and especially this woman who had been as hard and unforgiving as a Mechanicus adamantium anvil.  
"You are to be restored in your rank... But you shan't be restored in your former position." Lars had let the judge before him continue. Even if he would have protested, he hadn't been under any illusion that he had had any say in the matter. "There are two reasons for this, regulator. One is practical, the other is... Let's say the other is a precaution." Even as she had been giving him the news, Cadiz had been keeping him under close scrutiny, ready to detect, even then, anything suspicious. "The first reason is that we are currently unaware of the location, or status, of judge Belloran." Lars hadn't been worried hearing the news. Belloran had often told him stories about falling of the map and having no one else but yourself to count on. It was what judge Cadiz had told him afterwards that had shocked him. "The Unwanting Revenge has been destroyed. It was made to look like an accident, but we added a verispex team to the Mechanicus salvage operation. Even though there were no survivors, we've been able to learn that someone injected an unstable mixture of promethium in the secundary engines. We've also been able to ascertain that the judge wasn't aboard at the time. However, his mission team has been destroyed on the ground. We haven't been able to identify all the bodies, so there's still a chance he's missing, but whether he is Abiit in Actionem or Occidit in Actionem, our command has given up on him."

Cadiz had seen that this news had been wrecking to Lars and with her next words, she fell out of her role. Lars only noticed it later so he couldn't use it to work the judge. "Regulator! Both you and I know, we are talking of judge Arthur Belloran. We have seen more surprising things of him in the past." Lars had righted his shoulders and nodded. It was enough for Cadiz to take back on the role of a judge primaris in a debrief with a suspect officer. "You see how we are unable to restore you to your former position. Also, the Adeptus doesn't quite know what to make of your story. Any officer that has gone under cover for such an extended period of time as you..." The woman had seemed to change her mind about something and continued in a flat, matter-of-fact tone. "The Adeptus has decided that you will be added to the staff of another judge. You will receive mission orders and a travel pass. We expect you to continue to fulfill your duty to the Emperor. Ave Imperator!" And that had been the end of it.

At least, the end of his official communications with the Adeptus Arbites. Afterwards he had recollected his thoughts at one of the many space ports of the sector capital. He had felt lost, sad and angry. He had delivered his information, but at this point he wasn't even sure the Arbites would act on it. Apart from that, he still couldn't accept the decision of the Adeptus Arbites on the fate of Arthur Belloran. Lars had searched refuge in one of the hundreds of shady bars at the edge of the space port and after a few drinks he had been ready to come to terms with his realization. Just like Walther Willis he had then been seriously contemplating disloyalty to the Arbites. From his point of view, the situation had been completely different, but he could imagine that judge primaris Cadiz and her peers wouldn't exactly agree with his assessment. Still, after another amasec of dubious quality, regulator Lars Akira had decided that he would put his loyalty to Arthur above his duty to the Arbites. He had decided for himself that his duty was to his judge, rather than to the Arbites. But at the same time, he had known that such an explanation was a rationalisation at best and probably a reason for execution if he would run it past anyone other than Belloran from the Arbites.

He had thought about his next step. It had seemed his subconscious had led him to that specific spaceport because he saw the announcement for boarding a low end commercial liner to Phlegethon. He had desperately needed back-up and he had only knew one place to get it: Lady Niala and the considerable means of House Mobatu, including her spy master Pumbo and his network. If anyone would be able to dig up the necessary information, it would be Pumbo. He'd been given some thrones to cover expenses during his journey to his new judge and those would certainly be enough to book passage. So, two hours later he sat aboard a not quite ramshackle shuttle, trying to shut out the thoughts that he was betraying his service, when someone kicked aside his duffelbag he had put on the seat beside him. Lars looked up, already annoyed by whoever had been boorish enough to do so. When he looked up, he saw a pair of dark brown eyes giving him a hard stare. Immediately it was clear that this wasn't just someone looking for a place to sit. The attempt at intimidating him was quite obvious. Seeing as Lars didn't want to attract any attention by identifying himself as an arbite, he just grunted disapprovingly and pulled his bag under his seat.

As the woman sat next to him, Lars looked her over in the reflection of the small glass viewport at his left. At first glance she looked nothing special, but Lars' trained eye discerned a few details that made him wary. She was in good shape and although her clothes were utilitarian, just like his, the triple stitching made it clear that they were good quality. She was paging through some random magazine, but her eyes were darting across the shuttle, examining the other passengers closely. The most intriguing thing was the small bump under her vest which could have been a compact pistol in a concealed holster. The arbite considered his options and realized that his own weaponry, a newly received Pugnatis-pattern autopistol, was stashed in a hidden compartment of his duffel bag. Not really the place you wanted it to be when facing a potentially well trained opponent.

"Don't worry about it." the woman suddenly whispered. "I ain't here to off you." Lars kept his face in check and kept quiet for a moment, considering his options again. "Fine." he grunted back softly, not feeling the least bit reassured, but there wasn't much more he could do but wait till the shuttle would take of and deliver them to the ship in orbit. He certainly didn't want to risk getting into a fight at this point. A few minutes later the shuttle's engines were engaged, drowning out most of the sounds in the cabin. The woman grabbed something from the inside pocket of her vest, revealing a little black cube Lars recognized as a small vox privacy field emitter. Now both his attention as his suspicion peaked. The woman turned her back to the aisle and looked at him intently. Lars didn't bite gesturing for the woman to explain herself. "I'm just a messenger," she whispered, just barely audible over the pitch of the engines that even grew louder as the thing stopped at the start of the runway to take off, "and we've got a limited timeframe. This is for you." She handed him a wax sealed envelope, the red blotch impressed with an unknown seal of two crossed battleaxes. "Your orders are to leave Askellon and head for the Carceris sector to present yourself to interrogator Silverback." Lars kept his silence and the woman continued. "You'll find the necessary documents and cash for your journey as well as an itinerary, but that could go out of date during your travels. We're sure that you'll manage to make passage though." Lars didn't accept the envelope and instead asked his first question. "You ain't no messenger and I'm not in service to the Inquisition. Why would you expect me to do anything of the sort?" The woman rolled her eyes and sighed. "They told me you weren't an easy man..." She focused her attention back on him. "This sector is doomed, my friend. That cult you were working on? They had it right." Lars couldn't decide whether he wanted to protest or act on his suspicions immediately, so the woman used his shocked silence to continue her reasoning. "There's a Tyrannid hive fleet splinter heading here and we both know that there isn't anyone here that can put up a reasonable defense against that. And I know that there isn't anyone coming form out of sector to save the day."

The news felt like a blow to the stomach and Lars was left speechless. He didn't know too much about the Tyrannids, actually nothing more than what he had learned from the promotional picts and propaganda. In those picts the Imperial Guard together with the Space Marines always managed to utterly destroy the buglike enemy. But Lars no longer was an ordinary citizen of the Imperium and had seen enough corruption and betrayal to know that those picts were probably more like faerie tales than an accurate depiction of the battles. "We're trying to get out a few useful assets out of this sector before it is lost to us forever. And you can be thankful to be on the list." Lars tried to wrap his head around the message he was being given. He couldn't deny that the things the woman had said made some sense. Desperately trying to steer the conversation in a direction that could make some sense to him, he asked another question. "What do you know about the cult?" The woman shook her head and glanced at her chrono, but when she looked back at Lars, she seemed to accept the fact that she would need to explain more. "That dragon symbol they used to rally some to their cause? That's a crude depiction of their race. And that mutant you spotted back on Havarth? That was a genestealer. A xeno that is send in advance of the fleet, its sole purpose to take over planets or at least, make it easier for the rest of the Nids to take over the system." The woman shrugged. "I can tell you more, but you don't have the information to verify whatever I'm saying."

Lars could only agree with her assessment, although that didn't mean that he was ready to follow her directions. There were still plenty of reasons not to go along with this impromptu plan. But his counterpart seemed to know all about him. "You're probably thinking about judge Belloran, aren't you? You need to leave that behind." She raised her hands in anticipation of Lars' protest. "He's gone. The arbites haven't found his body, but I'm telling you. He's gone. The Kerviel Cartel doesn't leave anything to chance. How long did you got stuck in that witness protection spiel you pulled to get back in? How much time between the attack on the Revenge and you popping back up on the grid anyway? Can you tell me you actually believe that the judge would take that much time to get out of trouble? And I know that you know that he isn't just running another op. If your base of operations is destroyed, you don't go back to business the next day." Lars slumped in his seat. He didn't want to agree with her, even if he knew her arguments made sense. And there still was room for doubt. "You've got nothing to prove that he's dead. He's been gone for far longer periods of time." Lars retorted. The woman shrugged again. "On his initiative... Not after getting caught in an ambush. He wasn't prepared to go dark this time." Lars started to get angry with the woman. "You still don't have pröva. And why should I believe you anyway." Now, the woman looked a bit incredulous at the arbite, but after a few seconds the look in her eyes changed to grim determination. "You don't need to believe me... You need to obey. I ain't representing no ambitious slum lord, nor a delusional noble or even a frakking rogue trader." She had raised her voice, but seemed to calm down again. Probably because she saw that the regulator she was facing was getting ready to burst out.

But she wasn't about to back down. "I'm not gonna force you here." she whispered, steel determination in her voice, "but have you thought how Lady Niala will receive you? You can turn it any way you want, but you stopped being a sanctioned arbite the moment you set foot on this shuttle." Lars' face betrayed his anger now. He seemed to be in a fighting cage with an opponent that seemed to know him like the back of her hand. "And you don't think her spymaster will check you out. Providing she is still the mistress of the house. There's a good chance that her husband has returned from his travels and..." She left the words unspoken. Lars wanted to punch her in the face, but managed to control himself. He needed some time an space to cool down. And that was exactly what he got. The woman stood up, not even slightly disturbed by the steep angle of the floor as the shuttle was still ascending towards the liner. "Take your time and think about it. By the time you've reached Phlegeton, you will probably have seen reason. Oh. By the way. That mission orders you got from Cadiz? It's one of our hoax, so don't think you have another duty as excuse to stay in this sector. Got it?" Lars didn't even nod at that. He was furious and although he didn't want to admit it to himself, he feared that the woman would be right on every account. Averting his face from the woman, he looked out of the viewport, seeing the first stars as they left the atmosphere. And deep down he knew that he would be travelling for a long time among them.

End of this book

* * *

Author's note:

It was perhaps a bit presumptious to call it the end of a book, but I like to think that all those chapters together are a story worth reading. And what else is a book anyway.

I'd like to thank you for reading and the encouraging comments I received along the way. I hope you enjoyed yourselves and found the ending satisfactory. I would also like to thank Claw, who has GM'd an awesome game for me and where Lars Akira has appeared as a central character.

For those of you who are looking for more, I can tell you that I've started another, far shorter, story which you can of course find here on . This one is also situated in the Warhammer 40.000 universe, but focuses on a not so heroic techpriest. I also have plans for another Warhammer 40.000 story, which will focus on the rather rough life of an underhive ganger, so there should be plenty for you to enjoy.


End file.
